


Thicker Than Water

by LadyBee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assassin Arya, Criminal Families, Dark Jon Snow, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I'm not sure yet, Maybe dubious-con, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9381761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBee/pseuds/LadyBee
Summary: That was his kingdom now. He was the head of both Starks and Targaryens, no matter what Cat and her children had to say about it. Who could actually challenge his position and capacity?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one is an answer to the prompt "dark!Jon alphamale!Jon being the head of a mafia family, and being possessive and all to Arya, who of course will always fight back. *Arya also has mad skills as a hitman* <3".

He looked around the room, as the guests came toward him one by one to give him condolences and pledge their loyalty. All of them wearing their black attires and talking about how much of a great man his uncle had been and how much of tragedy was Robb’s death.

Catelyn Star was sitting on an exquisite armchair while receiving condolences for her son’s death, like a dowager queen that had her last shred of power taken away from her. His cousin Sansa was standing by her mother’s side, just like the dethroned princess she was.

Their pale and beautiful faces were highlighted by the black of their clothes. No makeup applied, as it was proper for a widow and a young woman that had lost a family member. All the dignity and decadent power still wrapping them like a cloak.

That was the problem with their kind of business. Wars happened and every now and then it also happened that Kings died, opening the way for new Kings. Of course the old lady Stark would never look at his ascension kindly. Not the bastard child of Lyanna Stark and the reason for all the blood spilled in the territory for nearly twenty years. The bastard who dared to outshine and outlive her perfect golden boy.

That was his kingdom now. He was the head of both Starks and Targaryens, no matter what Cat and her children had to say about it. Who could actually challenge his position and capacity? Bran had a good mind for the business, but his wheelchair would inevitably get on his way. Rickon was just a child. Sansa was more comfortable around expensive shops and exclusive galas than near the bloody business of her family.

Of course there was a name he could never forget or ignore. Arya had been surprisingly silent so far. She hadn’t showed up ar the funeral. She hasn’t been seen since the aftermath of Robb’s death and the bloodbath that followed.

Jon had seen what happened with the entire Frey family. She had speared neither women nor children. The house had been put to fire with all the doors blocked. It was unlike her to call so much attention to her work, but that hadn’t been about business. That was vengeance in all its furious magnificence.

Among their allies a rumor was spreading like a cancer. A rumor about the bloody girl confronting the new leader to claim her brother’s crown. They called her many names and it had fomented the legend of Arya Stark. Ghost of Harenhall, Dark Heart, Cat of the Canals, The She-Wolf…No matter how many names they gave her to inflict fear on their enemies hearts, the only nickname he ever called her was _volchitsa._

If it was any other person spreading chaos within his territories, Jon would have considered exterminating the bastard in order to protect his position. Even if Arya was Ned’s daughter and capable of assuming her family’s business, Jon doubted she would dare so much. They had always been friends…More than friends even.

Once the reception was over and the guests were gone, there was only Jon and his cousins in the room, looking bitterly at each other and trying to guess what would the next move on the game. Cat’s lips were sealed in a tight line. Her beautiful face had aged a decade or more and there were dark circles around her eyes.

He approached his uncle’s widow with a glass of scotch in hand. Jon offered it to her silently before sitting in front of her.

“I would like you to know…” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I am terribly sorry that things have turned this way. Robb was a friend. He was like a brother to me and Ned…Ned was the father I never had.”

“Save your condolences for someone who cares about them.” Catelyn replied with bitterness and anger. “It should have been you! Not my boy! Not my Robb! It should have been you inside that car!”

“I respect your feelings, Mrs. Stark. I know there’s no lost love between us, but I’m not looking forward for a war between us. You have seen what happened here. I was chosen to lead this family and that’s exactly what I intend to do. I can either support me, or remain exactly where you are, but I warn you that I’m not one given to games.” He replied with collected anger and annoyance.

“You don’t come into our house and threats my mother like that.” Bran finally spoke with a voice that commanded authority. “You might be the leader now, but you own us some respect.”

“I agree. That’s precisely what I’m trying to do. Show you my respect and ask for a peaceful transition. Fear not. I’ll look after this family, just like Ned would have, once I’m told where she is.” He said trying to keep his anger under control.

Jon removed his tie while waiting for an answer from the Starks. His tattooed fingers calmly unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, revealing the pale skin covered multiple drawings in black ink. Every one of them had a meaning, every one of them was a warning.

“You know, Mrs. Stark…I’m very fond of your daughter.” Jon pointed while removing his gun from his waist and putting it aside. Catelyn Stark looked at him with unimpressed. Jon never expected her to demonstrate any sort of feeling. That was the Ice Queen after all and she had been through hell several times in her lifetime to let a new chief distress her, even if it was Jon with a gun. “I admire Arya greatly, but sometimes enough is enough.”

“I don’t see how you would ever stop my daughter if she ever decides to take back what you usurped from us.” Cat Stark answered in an almost bored tone. “You know her all too well. She won’t stop until everyone involved is dead and why should I stop her from dethrone you?”

At that he couldn’t help a laugh thick with sarcasm and without a trace of humor. He dried the corner of his mouth with his thumb before looking back at Catelyn with a cold smile.

“Dear Mrs. Stark, I would never dream of breaking your heart in such a terrible day, but I must say…” He dared to touch the old woman’s face, cupping her cheek in an indulgent and mocking gesture. A petty display of power. “No matter how good Arya is with a knife or a gun in hand, we all know that the only death she will deliver me is the petite one.”

“Take your filthy hand out of my mother!” Sansa finally hissed at him like a dangerous snake.

For a second he was distracted by his cousins’ commotion, just enough time to allow Cat Stark to pull a knife and place it on his chest. Jon let go of the old woman’s face.

“You don’t want to do this, Mrs. Stark.” He said calmly as she increased the pressure on the blade.

“Give me one good reason.” Ned’s widow said in defiance. There she was. Mother Wolf remained just as ferocious and dangerous as ever.

“In your place, I would be asking myself where Rickon is instead of threatening the man who is offering you nothing but peace.” At that her hand trembled and her face got even paler. She dropped the knife almost immediately once he mentioned her younger son.

“What have you done to my son?” Catelyn asked in panic while Brandon and Sansa tried to calm her down without much success. “Where is my baby?!”

“Where is my brother?” Bran asked at some point. “For God’s sake, he is just a child, Jon!”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, cousin.” Jon answered with a perfectly calm and stern face. “Rickon is fine. Probably playing videogames with Ed, or having Sam preparing him a sandwich.” He rose from his chair with calculated moves and no hurry. “I don’t like hurting children. Rickon will come back to you with one condition. Arya must stop her bloody business and come to me. You have three days.”

He walked out of the room and picked his coach near the front door with lightness in his movements. He had a number of men surrounding the house and taking care of the security. His own bodyguards were waiting for him outside fully alert to any suspicious movement.

Jon walked silently to his car, closely followed by his bodyguards. He sat on the back seat and looked up to the roof feeling suddenly drained and exhausted. Two guards in the front seat and four others in the car that was right ahead. Within his core a sudden need for blood and violence he could barely contain.

All the furious feelings he had managed to keep under control had finally broken loose inside him. The hate for his uncle’s wife and how the Starks had always treated him not as an equal, but simply a soldier to be disposed off. And yet he loved his uncle and cousin fiercely.

Robb had been a brother-in-arms and a friend, while Ned had been the only father Jon ever knew. That had been his house for most of his life. That had been his family until it wasn’t.

The snow peacefully falling outside the car reminded him of the terrible nights spent in that frozen hell. How many years had it been? Prison had been the worst part of his cursed life and yet the one he was grateful for. It had made him stronger. It had granted him a reputation and turned him into a man others were prepared to follow.

_All for a woman._

The thought was bittersweet and lovely like a love song.

She was barely a woman back then. Not yet turned sixteen and yet Arya have always had him wrapped around her fingers.

He had been the one to put a gun in her hand. Not that Arya needed much motivation to give in and embrace her violent nature. She had a natural talent for the business, among other things.

What leaded Ned Stark to cast him out had nothing to do with Jon’s growing power and influence inside his organization. Jon was sent to The Wall for no other reason but his relationship with his uncle’s little girl and Cat had been more than pleased to see him finally out of their lives.

“Boss, we’ve gotten a new report from the docks.” Satin’s voice called his attention from the front seat. “About that other thing you asked.”

Jon threw his head back and took a deep breath. Tracking Arya down had been a living hell, but every now and then he was faced with reports on her associates. All of them picked among the filthiest lot in the city. Whores, lower thieves, and minor coward drug dealers she would dispose of without a second thought. There was only two names often connect with hers that inspired some respect.

Clegane was a veteran and literally a mad dog on her leash. He acted as her bodyguard most of the time since Ned’s death. The other one was known as Bull. A young muscular fellow with a preference for hammering other’s heads.

Jon was familiar with Clegane and to a certain level he was even satisfied with the idea of Arya having him for her security team. The other guy was an utter mystery, though. An obscure man that had come out of nowhere and suddenly became Arya’s right arm. It didn’t take long for the rumors to start.

“What about it?” Jon asked cautiously.

“The guy is hiding somewhere near the warehouses at the docks. My contacts say that he hasn’t taken part in her last attack. She worked alone at the Freys’ incident.” So far nothing that Jon didn’t know already, but Satin’s voice had given something away. He was considering if it was wise to tell his boss the rest of it.

“What else, Satin?” Jon questioned in annoyance.

“She has been seen with him in…Intimate terms.” Satin answered with extra caution in every word. “As far as my contact could tell, it started shortly after your uncle’s death, but she hasn’t been seen around his hiding place.”

“She knows I’m back.” Jon sighted. Within him the anger was boiling in his blood. “She is trying to protect him.”

“What should we do, boss?” Satin asked, still clearly fearful over Jon’s possible reactions.

“I need Clegane talking. Some pretty girls and a suitcase full of money should do the trick. Tell him it’s a token of my friendship and tell him I would like a word with him as soon as he is done with the girls.” Jon said with an even voice. “If it doesn’t work, light the pyre.”

“Yes, boss.” Satin answered plainly. “What about the other one?”

“Call Ed and tell him I had business to attend before getting back home. Make sure Rickon is in bed and the place is safe. You’ll take me to see this Bull right now.” Jon commanded. “It’s about time for him to know how things are done in my town.”

Satin nodded silently and turned the car to take the road to the docks.

The night was cold and getting colder. If Arya thought it to be a good idea to defy him, she would soon learn that he wasn’t up to foolish games and he wouldn’t tolerate her displays of rebel attitude. She could run as much as she liked. If anything it would only make the event of their reunion sweeter, like a twisted foreplay.

Nasty rumors would always be spread about the younger Stark girl, since Arya refused to play a woman’s traditional role in their social structure. No…She would never settle for the position of a spectator. She enjoyed the adrenaline and she knew the business all too well. The others would never look kindly at a woman who dared to defy the status quo and the pettiest way of damaging her reputation was via gossip. It was quite ridiculous, really.

Even so…Jon wasn’t exactly prepared to deal with that kind of information. The simple idea of Arya taking a lover was intolerable and yet quite possible.

At the docks the wind that came from the ocean could freeze a man to the bone. He came out of the car and before he could enter the damn warehouse Jon took the time to admire the ocean for a second. Grey and turbulent like Arya’s eyes and probably just as merciless.

Arya was fond of the sea. Somewhere in what sounded like another life they used to walk around the bay and have clams and oysters together. There was something to do with the rough people that worked there. Arya had a natural talent to understand them and in exchange they would open up to her and deliver her the purest kind of loyalty. No surprise she would pick the docks to hide her lover, but she was underestimating Jon if she thought he would ever let another man touch what belonged to him and live to tell the tale.

His guards entered the place first while Jon waited outside with Satin and Grenn. The sounds of an ugly fight didn’t take long. Four shots were heard, while Jon prepared his own guns. The Bull had a reputation of being a terrific fighter in one on one combat, but as far as Jon knew the guys wasn’t much of a shooter.

_Just a big guy with a hammer. Nothing but a simple minded brute._

Once Jon entered the warehouse he understood why that guy was called Bull.

Even after been shot on his leg and left arm the guy had managed to take down one of Jon’s guards and injure the others significantly. In the end he was immobilized and tied up a chair, but even as he bled from his wounds severally, that guy still inspired fear.

The Bull looked at Jon directly. His eyes were blue and his hair was jet black and thick. His nostril dilated as he breathed, probably having difficulty to tolerate the pain.

“You must be the cousin.” The Bull said after spiting the blood out of his mouth. “I don’t know where she is, if that’s what you want to know.”

Jon approached him with cautious steps before pulling a chair for him to sit and face the Bull properly.

“That’s not why I’m here.” Jon said before lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag from it. “Arya will come to me once she is ready, or once she is feeling trapped inside her town. I’m here for another reason.”

Jon took a deep breath before passing his hands through his hair. He could barely stand looking at that man and imagine those hands touching Arya. His right hand reached the gun in his waist in instinct.

“Robb Stark is dead, Bolton is dead and the Freys too. There’s a new king in the North and that’s me.” Jon spoke with barely contained anger. “I understand that you worked for the Starks.”

“Not for the Starks.” The Bull answered with difficulty. “I work for her and no one else.”

“I’m curious.” Jon pointed as a matter of fact. “What is the nature of the work you perform?”

“Dirty work, mostly. Security too. She has many enemies here and so have I.” The Bull said. “She helped me to get out of trouble a few years ago. I’m in her debt since.”

“What about other services?” Jon insisted. “You know…Those of intimate nature?”

The Bull let a humorless laugh escape his mouth. No answer came immediately and that made Jon furious.

“I’ve made you a question.” Jon tried to sound amiable even though any one with eyes could see that the wrong answer would send that man straight to hell with a bullet in his brains. “You are kind of good looking, aren’t you? Between us, uhn. Arya is something. She is also young and a rebel by nature. A guy as good looking as you…I’m sure you called her attention at some point.”

“I’m not stupid as you think, you know?” He answered in a groan of pain. “I know what you did to Bolton and the guy had been wrapping a random girl and calling her Arya Stark all along. I saw your work and I know that Arya learned from you. I’m not willing to go to hell for the sake of a good fuck.”

“You deny then?” Jon insisted once more. “Don’t you have feelings for her? She is quite talented in collecting admirers and suitors, you know?” Jon picked the cigarette between his fingers and buried it in the wound in the Bull’s leg making the man scream in pain. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. She can make men like us feel quite special.”

“I’VE DONE NOTHING!” He screamed, but Jon wasn’t exactly convinced by his words.

“Things won’t be easy if you lie to me.” Jon said calmly. “I have plenty of time to deal with you and I don’t like liars.”

The guards around them lowered their eyes as Jon insisted on the same question over and over again. The cigarette was replaced by a knife and every time Bull denied the affair Jon would grant him a brand new wound.

A mad king wasn’t a good king and Jon was aware of it since a very young age. He didn’t care about what people would say, as long as the message was clear. Anyone who dared to get near Arya, anyone who dared to desire her, would face death by his hands soon enough.

As for Arya…Soon she would understand that there was no place for her but the seat by his side. She was meant to be his woman, his queen. That had been his goal all along, since the day he left The Wall. The very reason for him to claim the throne once Ned and Robb were dead.

“I will ask one more time.” Jon’s voice came through his clenched teeth as his knife rested against the Bull’s throat. “DID YOU FUCK HER?!”

Jon was consumed by his madness and the bloodlust triggered by his jealousy. The guards never dared to say a thing or considered trying to stop him. Bull wouldn’t last long and Jon couldn’t be more pleased with the idea of killing that bastard with his own hands, but that was until the sound of a shot drag him back to reality.

His guards got in position in no time at all. Jon grabbed his gun and pointed it to the direction from where the sound had come. Jon turned his head lightly to face the shooter.

“ _Voltchitsa…”_ His voice came out in a shocked whisper.

“You should tell your dogs to put the guns down when The Queen enters the room.” Arya’s voice sounded sharp and furious as she walked toward him with her gun in hand.

“You’ve heard her, boys.” Jon said immediately after putting down his own gun. “Show some respect to my queen.”

“Next time you want to know about who I did or didn’t fuck, you ask to me!” Arya roared at him fiercely. Even thought she had always lived in the shadows of Robb and Sansa’s accomplishments, time and talent had granted her a sense of belonging. Arya had crafted a name for herself and that name was whispered in fear among her family’s enemies.

Arya turned the gun in her hand in a swift movement. The gun butt hit his face hard enough to draw blood from his mouth. If Jon had any doubts that she was mad at him that had made things crystal clear.

“I think this is a conversation we should have in private, my dear.” Jon suggested while trying to dry the blood from the corner of his mouth.

Arya ignored his suggestion while walking toward the Bull. The ogre had passed out. She slapped his face lightly, trying to wake him up after checking his vital signs.

“Agreed. We should talk privately.” Arya answered as a matter of fact. “You!” She pointed at Grenn and made sign for him to approach. “You’ll take him to the nearest hospital and make sure he will survive. You take my car.” She threw the keys at the guard before turning her attentions back to Jon. “Now…You pick the place, Jon. Let’s deal with this as soon as possible. In your place I would start praying for Gendry to get out of this alive.”

  

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Arya had given his guns to Jon’s guards before entering the car. Gendry had been removed from the warehouse to the hospital as she had demanded. To avoid an argument in front of his soldiers, Jon gave orders for her to be taken to his place in a separate car.

That had been the right thing to do. He wasn’t expecting her to storm her way into that warehouse and hit him like she did. That would make things difficult for him. Jon had wanted her to come to his place. A discreet spot for a meeting full of longing and barely concealed desire. He had been dreaming about having her back in his bed for years and Arya wasn’t going anywhere once he had his hands all over her naked body.

Jon couldn’t help growling out of frustration as his car cut the city covered in snow. He had a name and a reputation to keep! He would have to make sure his men would keep their mouths shut about the scene they have witnessed at the warehouse, along with the fact that their boss was an utter fool whenever Arya was involved.

Satin called to warn Ed they would be arriving in a few minutes and to command him to reinforce security. Cat would try to send someone there to take Arya back home as soon as she got news about her daughter’s whereabouts. Rickon was already sleeping and had only asked for his mother a couple of times, which was something good.

Once they reached his property, the exquisite iron gates were open, allowing both cars inside the estate. The red house on top of the hill was a monumental display of his father’s former power and influence. It was also a well guarded fortress since Jon assumed as head of the family.

Jon observed from the car Arya getting out of the vehicle and walking into the house with the dignity of a queen and the ferocity of a general. He followed her shortly after, closing the door behind him and giving orders for the security team to check the perimeter.

Arya headed to his office without any ceremony, as if she owned the place. Truth be told, there was nothing he wanted more than to make her the lady of the house. He closed the door behind him, finally being able to admire her figure in details.

There was a time people dared to call her “the ugly sister”. Near Sansa, Arya have had little to no space to shine, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a beauty in her own right. Her body was lean, strong and delicate like the one of a Bolshoi ballerina. His dreams have failed to picture as an adult woman. She looked even better than he had anticipated.

Without an ounce of embarrassment, Arya went straight to his liquor cabinet and poured herself a generous amount of vodka. She drank it in a single gulp without even looking at him. Jon looked at her cautiously. Messed up hair, red eyes and trembling hands that would never fail to pull a trigger whenever needed. She looked like a portrait of chaos. A perfect storm.

“You look lovely, cousin.” Jon said as he approached her to take the bottle of vodka from her hand and have a glass for himself.

Arya immediately imposed a respectable distance between them. Well…The mating dance had begun and his little _voltchitsa_ wasn’t willing to make things easy for him. Jon ignored the glasses and had his generous share of vodkan straight from the bottle while Arya sat on top of his studding table.

“Cut the bullshit.” She said bluntly and unapologetic. “I’m not here for the compliments or the drink.”

“What do I own the pleasure then?” Jon asked with an attempt of a charming smile playing on his lips as he turned to face her. “Did you miss me, my _voltchitsa_?”

“If you were any other man I would have cut your tongue for the nerve.” She answered in a low and feral tone. Ooh he liked it when she played the savage one.

“We both know you like my tongue too much to do such a thing.” He grinned at her with malice which only served to make her even angrier.

“Let us make things clear between us before anything else is said.” She raised her tattooed finger and pointed it his ways. “You don’t enter my house. You don’t go around collecting your allies’ vows of loyalty during my brother’s memorial service. You don’t fucking dare to touch my mother’s face; kidnap my brother; or torture one of my men while there’s breath in my lungs unless you are desperate to find an early grave, you bastard!” Arya slammed the empty glass against the table, smashing it without even blinking at the cut in her palm. “This is my town. You own me respect if nothing else.”

Jon sighted before unbuttoning his suit’s jacket and taking it away so he could get more comfortable in front of her.

“Your _matushka_ is overreacting. Rickon is perfectly safe; and that bastard is lucky that I didn’t cut his balls off. You brought this upon yourself, little cousin.” He said with an indulgent smile. “I came back and I needed to see you again. I even killed Bolton to have your reputation avenged and made the North safe again to our family; and yet you refused to come to me as you should.”

“There’s no “our family”. There is “my family”.” Arya pointed. “We both know you didn’t kill Bolton because of me. You killed him because he dared say he had fucked Arya Stark and that wounded your pride just too much for you to let him live.”

“Let’s be frank, you wouldn’t let him live either.” Jon replied with a hint of humor. “That was a gift. Instead of calling me to say thank you, you just blocked all the doors in the house and made a Frey barbecue. This sent an awful message.”

“You should have gotten the warning.” Arya looked at her unimpressed. “This is not your territory and definitely this is not your family. Since we’ve made things clear, let’s talk about business.”

“I had something more interesting in mind, but you wanna talk about business…So be it.” Jon pulled an arm chair to sit. “Will you get on your knees and pledge your loyalty to me, now?”

“You know I’m not giving up the position. I am my father’s daughter and just as capable as you. You have nothing to do with my family and to accept you as the head of our business would kill my mother.” Arya ignored his nasty suggestion. “You have been out of it for too long and a lot has changed while you were gone. It doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Jon looked at her carefully while trying to find a trace of the girl he used to take to the shore and make out with in the back seat of his car. That girl had vanished and the woman standing in front of him was the embodiment of nature’s rage.

“I’m not saying that you aren’t capable. I know perfectly well that you could manage it just fine.” Jon answered with calculation and a good share of respect in every word. “No matter how good you are, Arya. This is a man’s world and as soon as you step in someone’s toe there will be rebellion against you. I’m not talking about a regular war; I’m talking about a massive backlash.”

“Meaning you are more than satisfied to take my place because that would make you my savior and hero.” Arya replied with her voice full of sarcasm.

“As if you would ever let me.” Jon said while rolling his eyes.

“Some things never change, I guess.” Arya smirked at him and just like that time seemed to rewind back to their golden years.

“As far as people know, we are at each other’s throat fighting over dominance.” Jon added patiently. “Your vengeance isn’t done yet. Jaime Lannister is very much alive and Cersei whispers all sorts of things in his ears as they keep your uncle as a hostage. We have much to lose if we keep fighting each other.”

“I would like if you would stop saying the obvious. I’m not stupid.” Arya replied in annoyance. “You kidnapped my brother and tortured one of my men for no reason at all. Even I think we are at each other’s throat at this point, but I suppose you have something in mind. It’s either that, or you are desperate to call my attention.”

“We are stronger together, _voltchitsa_.” Jon pointed reasonably. “You want revenge against the Lannisters, but even if you were the head of the family, you wouldn’t get it on your own, especially not after the war Robb started. I would rather fight with you than against you.”

“Even if you were the head of my family, you would need our support to put one foot in front of the other.” Arya added boldly. “Revenge can be sweet, but it won’t sway my mother or I. Besides, everybody knows you would stab _matushka_ in the heart if you had the chance.”

“Since she planned with your _papa_ to send me straight to jail, I don’t know why I would ever care about her.”

“You don’t dare accusing her in front of me.” She growled back at him. Jon raised his hands in sign of peace.

“I’m sorry. That was rude, but it’s the truth and we know why they did it.” Jon added before rising from his seat and walking toward her with the lightness of a feline. “Yet here we are. The bastard boy and the little girl deciding how to rule the empire.” He moved hair gently so he could see her eyes properly. Arya smacked his hand away, just to remind him that she was his equal, not a plaything. “We are finally standing in common ground and looking eye to eye. You want to be queen and God knows you deserve it. _Ya zdes', moya malen'kaya volchitsa **[1]**._ Be my queen and we will burn this city to the ground.”

“Once you’ve claimed that _papa_ would dress me in a pretty dress and lock me up in a golden cage if he had the chance.” Arya answered with sudden caution. She raised her bloody hand to his face. Her tattooed fingers brushed his cheek lightly and Jon simply couldn’t resist closing his eyes to savor that moment. “Bolton, Gendry…They had nothing in common but the fact that you believed they had fucked me. You talk about making me your queen, but… _Tvoya lyubov' tozhe kletka **[2]**_ _._ ”

His hand grabbed her by the nape tightly, bringing her face so close to his that Jon could smell the alcohol in her breath. It had been years since the last time they stood so close and it felt like home.

“Why should I ever take these things lightly, hun?” He asked in a low and dangerous tone. “I was sent to hell because of you, love. Now I come back home to find out about all those rumors saying that you have been fucking another man while I was in a real cage.” Jon got his body between her legs and used his free hand to bring her hips closer. “Did you really think that I would ever let anyone touch what is mine and walk away unpunished?”

His mouth went eagerly to hers, but Arya turned her face to avoid the kiss. Jon kissed her neck instead, as his free hand tried to get under her pants. Arya was suddenly tense and resistant to his advances.

“There’s a lovely symmetry in this, Arya.” His voice sounded low and heavy with desire against the skin of her neck. “You want revenge. I want it too. We will rule together as it should be.”

Arya continued to avoid his kisses as he pressed her body down to lay her on the table. Her upper body was half inclined, supported by her arms, but she was oddly silent so far. He should have sensed the danger in her submission.

She landed a punch right into his solar plexus with her full force. Jon let go of her immediately as he tried to breathe as he snorted and growled in pain. Arya got up from the table and walked toward him with calculated movements. She grabbed him by the hair and made him look up to face her cold grey eyes.

“I’m not that little girl you used to have fun with, babe.” She said in a dangerous and sweet tone. “You have one more lesson to learn. Never touch me as if I were one of your filthy whores unless you want me to cut off your balls.”

“I’ve turned that little girl into a woman worthy of being my queen a long time ago.” He replied once she let go of his hair. Arya didn’t bother to reply. She simply turned her back at him and walked toward the door.

Jon finally managed to straight up his body and look at her before Arya could walk out of the office. That was far from being the end of that discussion.

“If you get out of this room right now, I’ll make sure your _matushka_ will never see her baby boy again.” Jon said sharply and at that Arya stopped.

She turned to face him again. Her face as sober and still as a frozen river.

“Has jail erased the last shred of honor in you?” Arya asked coldly. “Rickon is a child.”

“Just like a number of Freys that you killed once you went rogue.” Jon pointed while still breathing with difficulty. “You raised the bar and shown me how low you are willing to go just to prove a point. I would never enter into this without insurance.”

He walked toward her like a predator circling his prey. Arya didn’t dare to move once Rickon’s name was brought up.

Jon touched her face kindly. His eyes would never look away from hers. That was the very definition of a cold war. They were moving on thin ice, afraid of making the wrong move and blow everything away.

“He is your cousin!” She hissed furious. “Will you dare to kill someone from your own blood?!”

“Who said kill? I’m going to keep him and make sure dear lady Stark will never see her baby boy again. Maybe I’ll grant him the same education I was given. He might build up his own empire once he is old enough.” Jon’s voice was soft and incisive. “You have no guns with you. You might have a knife or two hidden in your body, but we know it wouldn’t be enough to take me down. You are locked inside my property, fully surrounded by my security team. Your lover, butcher boy, hammer guy, or whatever you call him…He won’t be coming to your aid anytime soon. Your other dog is probably busy fucking one of the girls I told Satin to send him as a gift. Finally, your baby brother is somewhere inside this house and it would just take one word to make him disappear for good. You know what I want and neither of you will get out of here unless you give it to me.” He was dangerously close at that point. So close that she could smell the alcohol in his breath. “I’m not playing games, Arya. This foreplay of ours is taking too long, so let’s get down to business.”

It was Arya the one to start the kiss. It was her hand to pull him by the nape and seal the pact with the devil in what felt like a homecoming. Jon pressed her to the nearest wall and raised her body so they could look eye to eye. She enlaced him with both her arms and legs, making it an intimate embrace as Jon bitted her tattooed shoulder and neck lightly.

Their affair have always been a bit twisted, with too much violence and blood involved in the clandestinety of it. Maybe that was exactly what made it something so special and unforgettable.

Their clothes fell to the floor as they dig for pleasure in a desperate way. Arya ripped off the buttons of his shirt and Jon spanked her butt once got rid of her pants. He pressed her against the table, with her back turned at him. Later there would be time for slow and passionate lovemaking, but in that moment instincts were in charge. They were furious at each other and trying to display their power and dominance in a way that could only be described as savage.

Jon kisses her neck, shoulders and back as he pinned her upper body down to the table. His rough hand pulled her hair as he tried to free his cock from every restriction. Arya growled as he held her by her chin to kiss her lips again.

“Have you missed me?” He asked with one hand holding her throat and the other giving her breast a squeeze as his cock slid inside her wet folds.

Arya arched her back and let a loud moan escape her mouth as Jon moved. Arya lowered her body and used her arms to support part of her weight, giving Jon a better angle to move. Her nails scratched the wood their passion play became more violent.

Their bodies moved in perfect sync as they used to. It felt like coming back home. Arya wouldn’t rest until she found a way to make him pay for that trap, but Jon couldn’t care less. He finally got her back in his life and there was no way in hell he would ever let go of her again.

Jon could feel his orgasm approaching fast. His right hand went down to reach her clit so his fingers could work on it.

“ _Blya **[3]**!”_ She let it escape as her mouth gasped for air. “ _Bystreye **[4]**!_ ”

He increased the pace as she had commanded. There was little he wasn’t willing to do within four walls to please his queen and Arya was a demanding lover. She moved her hips, swaying it gently and making it impossible for him to resist longer. Jon increased the pressure on her clit and Arya howled as she finally reached her orgasm, dragging Jon to his release.

For a while they were silent, just trying to recover their breaths before they could get dressed.

It was the first time Jon laid eyes on the number of tattoos on her body, indicating that Arya had a respectable reputation among criminals, even if she had no tattoos indicating a conviction. Most of them described a murderer and a thief, with a star in each shoulder and knee to inform she was a big dog among them.

“Do you have a cigarette?” She asked before lowering to get her clothes, giving him a privileged view of her ass.

“The silver box in the first drawer.” He said while trying to get dressed.

He observed Arya opening the drawer to get a cigarette. She hasn’t bothered to cover her breasts as she lit the damn thing and took a drag from it. The vision brought back a cozy sensation of familiarity, as if they had never been apart.

“Now…” She said lazily with the cigarette hanging between her fingers. “Where’s my brother?”

“Probably sleeping upstairs.” Jon said calmly. “He’s fine, really.”

“You’ve got what you wanted. Now you’ll send him straight back to my mother.” Arya said sharply.

“It was a good fuck for the sake of the old times, but…If you think this is what I want, I suggest you to think again.” He answered lazily.

“I’m not giving up the command.” Arya answered stubbornly.

“Who said a thing about you giving up?” Jon said. He was sounding just too satisfied with himself at that point. “I’m offering you a deal that would grant you a ridiculous amount of power. I’m talking of the two of us ruling together, sharing the burden, protecting each other’s back.”

“We have very different definitions of deal.” Arya insisted. “This is coercion.”

“You know…Those Italian dons…They have a very interesting way of understanding things. While we love to play the “lonely wolves” they truly believe in family. This fundamental unity inside a society. I like that even if I’ve never had a family of my own.”

“Your point being?” Arya was clearly impatient.

Jon walked toward her cautiously. He caressed her face and gave her an indulgent smirk.

“They generally marry the girl next door…A distant relative, or the daughter of one of their associates...Someone they know since ever. They marry, they have kids, raise them…This keeps the culture, the tradition, the business.” His voice was suddenly kind and intimate. “When I say I want to make you my queen…I’m not talking of a cheap affair or the crazy thing we had when we were young or another business deal. I’m talking about the real thing.”

“Is this a proposal?” Arya asked with an eyebrow raised in incredulity. Jon smirked at her.

“I can get you a five karat diamond if you want it to be traditional.” He suggested in an attempt of humor. “I don’t think it make sense for us to continue fighting each other. You want your share of the business and I think it’s fair. We must make it safe though. If the North is weakened, we both have a lot to lose.” His voice sounded practical and yet warm like a Spring afternoon. “ _Vykhodi za menya._ Marry me, Arya.”

“I don’t see why I should.” Her voice was cautious and reasonable.

“This will unify our factions and give us enough to fight the Lannisters. You keep your share of the business and with me backing you up the risk of rebellion will be reduced. Why get a deal with blood when you can get it in bed?”

“You have this plotted for a long time now, don’t you?” She asked. “Really, Jon? After all this time do you still think this is a good idea? There’s too much blood between us. Too much anger and hate.”

“Not against you. Never against you. I would never give you up, Arya. Everything I did, every time I pulled a trigger…It was to get closer to you.” He insisted fervently.

Arya pulled him closer and kissed him once more. At first Jon was taken by surprise, but it didn’t take long for him to answer it with fire.

“I need time to think about it.” She answered with her forehead pressed against his. “I have many things to consider before giving you an answer.”

“Unless you don’t love me anymore, there’s nothing to think about.” Jon insisted. “My feelings haven’t changed.”

“Let Rickon go home.” Arya said. “Let me take him back home and I’ll think about it. This is not about us loving each other and fighting against the world. I have to consider the business and my family as well.”

“I should lock you up inside this house and be done with it.” He growled in frustration as his hand rested in the base of her neck. “Maybe I’ll do it still.”

“We both know your pride wouldn’t allow it.” Arya answered without excitation. “You want me to come to you willingly. You want the fairy tale and the family you never had. A big white wedding to send a message to our enemies and how we are inseparable. You saw what happened to Bolton and how it turned into a commotion inside the territory. You don’t want to be the next bastard to raise the North against you. Give me time, and I’ll think about it carefully.”

“Fine.” He answered sourly. “Just answer me one thing. Do you still love me?”

She looked at him intensely, but said nothing for a while.

“Do you really think I would listen to you at all if I didn’t?” She asked. “You disrespected my mother, kidnapped my brother and tortured a friend. I’m here. I’m listening. I wouldn’t bother to if I didn’t love you, but love doesn’t go well with business.” She finally said.

“It’s about time for us to change it then.”

 

[1] I’m here, my little she-wolf.

[2] Your love is a cage too.

[3] Fuck

[4] Faster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy with all the reviews this fic received! I'm glad you liked it. About the misspelling...I've only seen them much later and yes, it's bad. I'm sorry about that. I don't have a beta reader, but I'll try to revise it later. I'm really sorry about it.  
> I hope you guys like this chapter and reviews are highly appreciated.  
> This chapter is dedicated to my Russian friends who have been so supportive (I hope the Russian bits in it are accurate).


	3. Chapter 3

Eventually they have moved their game from the office to the bedchamber. Even if Arya’s pride would never allow her to say it out loud, she had missed him dearly. Jon made sure to remember her again and again of all the reasons why she would never be able to forget him. In a way, it felt like he knew every bit of her body and knew by heart how to please her.

After hours spent in bed, either fucking, drinking or having an after sex cigarette, they were officially exhausted and starving.

Jon gave her towels and a robe once she declared the necessity of a hot bath. As the hot waters went down her body, Arya could feel every muscle in her body sore, especially between her legs. There was a part of her that enjoyed the pain. It made things real and for the first time in years seeing him hadn’t felt like a dream.

There was also another part of her that believed Jon should be dead. It would make things easier for her and the business, but that bastard was hard to kill. Her _matushka_ would hate it. She never really liked Jon and sometimes Arya even struggled to believe that her mother liked her.

She had always been the difficult child. While Sansa enjoyed the luxury of their family’s dirty money, Arya wanted to know the mechanism behind it. Her father had tried desperately to keep her as far as possible from the business, even when Robb and Bran were being prepared to take the lead one day. Bran’s accident changed things and brought Jon right into the core of the main game. Her father had trusted him with his whole heart, until Jon dared indulge every one of Arya’s darkest desires.

He had never denied her a thing. Jon had been her first in many ways. From bullets to the secrets of the bedchamber, he had instructed her and molded her into his ideal mate. If she wanted to shoot something, he would put the gun in her hand and teach her how to pull the trigger and then get on his knees to suck her until Arya was screaming his name.

Arya remembered the day she learned Jon had been couch trying to rob a fortune in diamonds after killing five men in the process. He had been sent to jail and served for nearly five years. She never understood how he managed to get out, but Arya suspected he had blackmailed someone of relevance. He not only managed to get his freedom back, but also inherited his father’s business.

Now he wanted the North and the world to bow to his will. Most of all he wanted to drag her into a church and make of her family’s humiliation a monumental thing. She even had to admit it was a tempting offer and an advantageous offer as well.

Arya got out of the bathroom wearing the robe and nothing else. When she walked into the room she found Jon sitting by the small round table, with a real banquet just waiting to be devoured.

“What’s this?” Arya asked suddenly joyous at the sight of food.

“Thought you would be hungry too. A cozy dinner sounded like a good idea.” Jon declared. “We have _borshch, pelmeni, pirozhki_ …And some caviar I’ve been importing from Russia.”

“It sounds delicious and smells even better.” Arya said as she took a sit by the table.

“You can bet it tastes like heaven.” He smirked at her as Arya served a plate with the dark purple soup.

He was right about the taste. The comfort of a warm meal in such a cold night felt like a blessing. She observed as he grabbed a piece of bread and topped it with a bit of caviar.

Eating was something they usually did in silence. It felt a bit like a ritual or a pray. Arya could see the snowflakes dancing outside through the window. In the morning they would be half buried in the snow. Jon would probably use it as an excuse to keep her in the house a while longer.

She had gambled with her life and Rickon’s in the moment she accepted entering the house without her guns. Not that she had much choice if she wanted to see her brother again, but Jon would hardly let an opportunity to force her hand to pass by unnoticed. She would actually be lucky if he didn’t call for a priest to marry them in secret, but deep down Arya knew they would need to put up a show. Half of that business was about image and reputation.

“I would like to see my brother.” Arya declared once her plate was empty.

“Fair enough.” Jon agreed calmly.

He rose from his seat and offered her his hand. Jon leaded the way out of the room and through the corridors in silence. The place was cold, but not because of the weather. It was a monumental house, without an ounce of human warmth in it. They stopped in front of a massive dark wooden door.

“Open it.” Jon said in a whisper and Arya obeyed.

Slowly she opened the door to find her baby brother soundly sleeping in a comfortable bed. Arya walked toward him with careful steps. She sat by his side on the bed and pulled the blankets to cover him properly.

The relief she felt couldn’t be described. After Robb’s death, she couldn’t bare the idea of loosing another sibling.

“He ate and spent hours playing videogames with my men.” Jon said kindly. “As you can see, Rickon is fine.”

“Did you give him any medicines to sleep?” Arya asked. Rickon hadn’t slept properly since Robb’s death.

“No drugs. The cook made him some tea. I guess it helped him to relax.” Jon answered honestly.

“Who would ever guess you are a good babysitter?” Arya pointed with her voice full of sarcasm.

“Well…I kind of like kids and maybe I’m just trying to show you that I can be a good father.” Although he tried to make it sound like a joke, Arya was well aware of the fact that he had always craved for a family.

“I’m not considering motherhood any time soon.” She answered sharply before raising up from the bed again. “I’ll take him home in the morning.”

“I can always send him ahead while you stay here with me.” Once more his lips said one thing while his eyes told her another tale.

That suggestion sounded more like a warning that he wouldn’t let go of his advantage in the matter. That negotiation was for all intends and purposes an exchange of hostages. Arya cursed her naivety in assume that Jon would act honorably when he had made it all so clear that he had a goal and he wasn’t willing to give up.

“This is an invitation, _voltchitsa._ I would like some vacations in your sweet company, but you may go and deliver the boy to your dear _matushka_. Talk to your advisors if you have any. Anyone with a bit of sense will tell you that I might be the devil, but I’m also the best ally you can get.”

“If I’m to pay the price you are asking, I’ll make sure that you meat my conditions one by one.” Arya pointed calmly.

“You just have to name them.” Jon answered with an indulgent smirk.

“I’ll keep a security team of my choice. You don’t get to spy on me using your men and you don’t bribe my men to do this for you. Is that clear?” Arya asked sharply.

“As long as the Bull guy agrees to retire, I see no problems.” Jon replied through his clenched teeth. His humor had suddenly changed. “Are you planning to hide things from me, dear?”

“I enjoy my privacy, Jon. You can either deal with it or get out of my sight. This isn’t open to negotiation.” Arya replied with the authority of a queen. “This is about us trusting each other. If you don’t trust me, why even bother proposing?”

“Fine. You pick your security team and I promise that I won’t spy on you.” Jon agreed without much enthusiasm.

“You won’t use this agreement between us to upset my mother anymore than she will be already.” Jon rolled his eyes at that.

“ _Chto v etom smeshnogo?_ What is the fun in that?” He raised his hands in exasperation and got nothing but an arched eyebrow in answer.

“One more thing.” Arya continued. “Since you mentioned Gendry and he is in the hospital thanks to your lack of control and good sense, you are the one paying for the medical expenses.”

“Or I could send someone there to finish him already.” Jon growled lowly.

“You won’t do this.” Arya cut him. “You can either accept or forget everything that was said between us so far. Forget that you have ever seen me. If you refuse to meet any of these conditions, I don’t care about what will happen next. You can kill all of us and prove to the world how much of a resentful bastard and a traitor that you are. If you love me at all, you’ll make an effort to fulfill my demands and it will be cheaper than a five karat diamond.”

“I would rather see you walking around with my ring in your finger, but if that’s the price I have to pay…Consider it done, _voltchitsa._ ”

Arya preferred to kiss his lips instead of answering with words. That was a good start. If she was to consider his marriage proposal, she should at least insure some aspects of her freedom. Jon wasn’t dealing with a school girl. They were meant to be equals in that plan and he would respect that.

They left the room, since their caresses were getting too bold. Rickon wasn’t disturbed in his sleep until the following morning, when Arya demanded a car to send them both back home. If Jon considered changing his mind, he never let it show again.

Before Arya entered the car, she looked back at him. Jon was all dressed in black, looking at her with apprehension and longing. In many ways, she understood him better than she understood herself. They were after all the underdogs, the outcasts, the deceptions and they had taken their crowns from the mud after a bloody battle. Jon was right. They were twin souls.

That also meant she had gone too far in her dreams of proving herself a worthy daughter of Ned Stark. In the world they lived Jon had become a legend. His name was whispered with fear. His brutality in dealing with enemies was well known. Anyone who crossed him was aware that death would come soon and Jon liked people to know and see when he was coming.

Arya believed she had seen hell in that town. Most of the time it was snow white and devils had a Russian accent. The question was…Between them, who was the worst?  

Once they were inside the car, Arya turned her attentions to Rickon. She hugged her little brother tightly and tickled him just to make sure he would laugh as he always did.

“Let go of me!” He shouted between laughs. “Stop it, Arya!”

“You nearly gave us a heart attack. This is your punishment.” Arya said while still tickling him. “Why did you go with him, Rickon?!”

“Stop it and I’ll tell you!” Rickon shouted and Arya finally gave him a break. He tried even his breath after his sister’s attack. “Jon told me you had asked him to take me somewhere for security. He told me you would come for me later to take me home.”

“What a bastard!” She couldn’t believe she had been played like that. “And you trusted him without questions?”

“He is our cousin! Besides he made it sound like something you would say. All the “quiet as a shadow, fear cuts deeper than the sword” crap you always tell me whenever I’m supposed to go somewhere in secret.” Well, now things made sense. “Is it true? Are you going to marry him?”

“Who told you that?” Arya was genuinely surprised. Rickon shrank his shoulders a bit.

“Jon asked if I could keep a secret then he told me he would propose to you, but I shouldn’t tell mom before you gave the news. Then I heard the two of you talking in my room. You even kissed him.”

“And you were hearing it all along. You little shit!” Arya gave his arm a light punch.

“Hey! I think he is nice. He doesn’t like mom, but he likes you and he liked Robb. Robb used to say he missed having Jon around to help him with stuff. That Jon was trustworthy. Things like that.”

“It seems he got himself a fan.” Arya snorted. “There’s nothing decided yet. Meanwhile, no matter how nice he is to you, I don’t want you near him. You’ll have classes at home and you won’t get outside the house until I say otherwise. Ok?”

“Geez! When did you get so boring? You used to be the cool sister.” Rickon complained. Arya messed up his hair and made him laugh.

“I wish I could tell. I hope you will never have to stand where I’m standing now, kid.”

Once they arrived home, her family’s guards came to meet them at the gate. The animosity between her team and Jon’s was so dense that it could be cut with a knife. She saw Sandor from a distance and there would be time for her to deal with his dubious loyalty, but first she needed to talk with her mother.

It wasn’t a surprise to find her mother and Bran sitting at the living room with facial expressions that could only be read as devastated.

Her mother seemed to have aged a decade or more in a matter of days. She had lost weight and there were dark circles around her eyes. The white strings of hair were more evident, mixed in what once had been a lustrous mane of red hair. The black she wore made it all even more evident and to anyone who had know Catelyn Stark in her prime that image could only be described as a portrait of decadence.

Her mother’s face lightened up once she saw Rickon running toward her for a tight hung. She was crying, openly relieved to know that her son had been brought back to her safe and sound. Arya’s presence in the room had been barely noticed by the Stark matron, but Bran moved his wheelchair to check on his sister closely.

“How are you?” He asked in his usually composed and gentle tone. “We were worried sick with your sudden disappearance. With you and Rickon gone…I don’t know what would be of her.”

“I’m fine. I got a cut in my hand, but it was my fault really.” She said while observing her mother hugging and kissing Rickon desperately. “We have much to discuss later. I think I’ll need your advice more than never.”

“I was afraid you would say that.” Bran sighed. “We heard the rumors. Gendry sent to the hospital, that was…I can only presume his price is too great for us to pay. How much was it? I’m sure we can call some favors and raise it, but it will take time.”

“He didn’t ask for money…That’s why I’ll need to talk with all of you as soon as Rickon is out.” Arya replied soberly. “Winter is here, brother. We will need a pack more than never.”

After a while Catelyn sent Rickon to his room with promises that he could have anything he wanted for dinner. Once the younger Stark kid was out of the room, Cat turned her attentions to Arya for the first time her arrival.

“You nearly killed me, child.” Mrs. Stark said to her daughter. Arya couldn’t ignore the fact that her mother’s hands were trembling. “You went after that monster on your own. You had no guards with you! Not a single one! What were you thinking? You put your life and Rickon’s in danger out of foolishness! You are not a child any more. You can’t afford committing such basic mistakes!”

“I’m fine, _matushka._ ” Arya answered feeling suddenly exhausted. She opened her arms and smirked at her mother in a cocky way. “See? Nothing happened to me.”

“The same can’t be said about Mr. Waters, as far as I understand.” Mrs. Stark replied sharply. “Clegane was also bought. You can’t hope to command this family if you can’t take care of your men, or if they are willing to sell you at the first sigh of easy money.”

“And yet I’m the only one willing to assume the task and preventing this family’s entire collapse. What happened to Gendry and Clegane had nothing to do with our enemies, or any kind of direct attack, no matter what you think.” Arya said before taking her usual chair.

“What was that all about if not Jon demanding the crown? That bastard should have been killed. I’ve always thought so, but your father couldn’t bare the idea.” Cat insisted.

“Then you helped _papa_ to send Jon to jail and guess what? You created the same monster that came back from the seven hells to bark at our door.  Don’t try to make it sound as my fault, because we both know who Jon is trying to hurt here and so far he hasn’t done half of what he is capable of.”

“He must pay for what he did!” Cat demanded. “He humiliated us during my son’s memorial service. He came here to challenge us! To show how many of our former allies he has on his side! He dared to kidnap my child!”

“How exactly do you suggest me to deal with a man that has a reputation such as his? Jon took his place at the head of the Targaryen family. You know what that means! We either fight him or the Lannisters. From here to hell there are rumors that Jon is about to declare open war on us. This shows to our enemies that we are vulnerable!”

“I don’t care what you have to do! I want him dead!” Cat demanded.

“Mother, you are overreacting.” Bran finally spoke in attempt to defend his sister. “Arya brought Rickon back safe and sound. Jon hasn’t harmed him and even sent them back driven by one of his men. There’s a sign of good faith here and Arya is right.” He sounded reasonable; although Arya wasn’t sure how long her brother’s serenity would last once he knew the price behind Jon’s generosity. “What is it that Jon wants, Arya?”

Before Arya could say a word Cat let escape a weird sound from her mouth. It was something between a laugh and snort, filled with sarcasm and reproach. That had been enough to tell that Mrs. Stark was well aware of what Jon wanted. More than that Arya was positive that Cat knew perfectly well what her daughter had to do in order to get Rickon out of that house.

“Yes, my dear. For how long you’ll have to serve as his whore to repay this kindness? Will he send the car over whenever he wants to fuck you again?” Cat’s words hit her harder than any punch ever could. Bran looked at his mother shocked as Arya tried to calm all of her anger and remember that her mother was half mad with grief.

“You are my mother. I love you more than anything, but if you think you’ll talk to me like this and go unpunished…Think again, _matushka_.” Arya replied in a voice so cold that Cat shrank her shoulders in fear. “Do you wanna know if I fucked him? Yes, I did; the whole night to be more specific. We drank. We smoked. We fucked and we talked about business. I assure you that the only reason that ever took me to Jon’s bed was my own free will and…Gosh! I’ve missed him! Right now, I have a massive problem in my hands. Something that could change this family and our territory for good and I can only hope to solve it with your help. So that’s how things will work. You will swallow your pride and forget all of your hate over Jon. You’ll listen to what I have to say and when I request you will give me your advice. If you don’t agree, than get out of my sight before I find a way to send you to Siberia.”

Cat didn’t say a word in answer. She knew better than speak against her daughter now that Arya had more blood in her hands than Robb ever had.

“Jon doesn’t want a war against us. He hates the Lannisters as much as we do and he is willing to help us to get our revenge.” Arya said in a more controlled way. “He has a point when he says we lack the resources to go after Cersei and Jaime. After what Robb did, we are facing times of difficulty and we need powerful allies. Right now Jon has the means to help us.”

“Help that comes at a price.” Bran completed. “If he wants to help, why the theater and Rickon’s kidnap then?”

“To call my attention.” Arya replied. “I was aware that he was back in town, but so far I’ve been trying to avoid him. I know Jon. He has ambitions and he is cunning enough to know that he can’t last long without allies as well. That’s what he wants.”

“Is he willing to let you control the family in exchange for an alliance?” Bran sounded surprise. “Is that all?”

“In general lines, yes.” Arya confirmed. “What troubles me is how this alliance is to be made.” She took a deep breath. “He wants me to marry him. The excuse is to put up a show of our unity and collaboration. Each of us will keep the control over our shares of the business, but he would have access to our resources and vice versa.”

“If you ever agree with that…You can forget that you have a mother.” Catelyn declared in answer to Arya’s threats.

Mrs. Stark rose from her seat and left the room without anymore words. Bran and Arya remained in silence for a while, without knowing what else to say or do.

“I guess this is the official version, or at least the practical reasons he presented.” Bran sighed. “I need to know, though. Is Jon still in love with you, sister?”

“Yes. He is also in love with the idea of getting his personal revenge on _matushka._ As far as I can see, he is already getting it.” Arya answered calmly.

“What about you?” Bran insisted. “Are you still in love with him?”

“I wish I knew the answer for this question.” Arya replied honestly. “The advantages are obvious, though.”

“You are avoiding my question and you know it, Arya.” Bran pointed.

“How would you feel near someone that knows everything there is to be known about you, Bran? Every dream, every fear, every doubt you ever had…Jon not only knows, but he also understands them all. He feels them just like I do and near him…Everything seems easy.”

“I guess you already know the answer for your dilemma. I remember how it used to be. I’ve never seen so much loyalty and complicity in a couple. You have never been like that with any other man.” Bran sighed. “Does he know about Gendry?”

“He heard the rumors. Of course I denied everything.”

“Let’s hope it to be enough or else our friend won’t live long to tell the tale.”

“What about mom, Bran? You’ve seen how badly she acted.” Arya pointed. Bran held her hand lightly.

“She will see the light eventually. Right now, I believe it to be not only our best option, but also what you have always wanted. We are stronger together. You are the alpha she-wolf and so far no one has been able to stand up to the task of being your companion. Maybe…Maybe Jon is the right choice after all.” Bran pointed. “Do whatever you must, sister. I don’t care as long as we make them pay for what they did to us.”

And just like that all the devils came together to unleash hell and paint the snow in red.  

   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy with all the love this fic is receiving that I can barely express my gratitude to you! I never thought this fic will be so well received by the readers and all that I can say is thank you.  
> In this chapter we finally get a chance to see how the Starks work as a family and as you can see Cat is far from being a delicate flower. She has a difficult relationship with Arya, especially now that Arya managed to reach a high position in the criminal hierarchic. Cat lost her control over her daughter's life and this lead to a great deal of bitterness between them.  
> I hope you like it and reviews are appreciated as always.


	4. Chapter 4

The day started with bloody news. Although he would never say it out loud, Jon had rejoiced at the news of Gendry Water’s death.

Since he had been identified as the financial responsible for the medical expenses, Jon had been informed of Water’s sudden death. The doctor said he had passed away in his sleep and the medical report said he died of natural causes.

If Gendry Waters had been any other man, Jon would have believed the lie. That guy had been the perfect image of health, though. He was young and strong like his alias suggested, so his death sounded more like a convenient occurrence.

Gendry had mentioned that he had enemies. Well, Jon could even be counted as one of them, but at that moment Bull’s death wasn’t in his best interests. Arya would be furious and she would obviously come to the wrong conclusion. Not that he was entire blameless, but the order hadn’t come from him. If he wanted to keep Arya far from murderous ideas he would have to act and find the responsible before she decided to blame him.

Jon got out of bed in one jump. He dressed up and in a few minutes he started making calls. The only thing he had wanted to know about Gendry Waters so far was the nature of his relationship with Arya. With his suspicious death, Jon came to the conclusion that he would need to know a bit more about that guy in order to find the killer.

It didn’t take long for Sam to knock at his door. Jon would never understand how a man like Tarly ended up working for a man like him. Sam was a short chubby man, with a pleasant round face and a good nature. He was a lawyer that helped Jon to legitimize the origin of his money, but preferred to stay as far as possible from to gory aspects of the business.

“I came as soon as I was informed.” Sam said in a hurried tone. “I brought the documents you asked, but what can we expect now that Mr. Waters is dead?”

“Miss Stark is likely to knock my door down and point a gun at me, but that’s something I’ll have to think about later.” Jon answered without much enthusiasm as he received the documents from Sam’s hands. “I need to know more about Mr. Waters and the enemies he might have had in life. I’ll find the responsible and deliver his head to Arya before she decides that I look better with a bullet between my eyes.”

“Are you sure about these documents? This can become very risky for both of you.” Sam asked cautiously.

“The pre-nup I’ll discuss with her once the storm is over. My testament, on the other hand, you’ll take it to my private safe and keep it there. I want security copies sent to the places I’ve mentioned earlier. Arya must never know about it.” Jon signed the paper after briefly reading them. He handled the documents back to Sam with an anxious smile.

“You do understand that she might refuse your proposal, don’t you?” Sam asked with a hint of humor.

“Indeed she might, but right now I’m the best option she has to get her revenge and you should never underestimate the power of a forbidden love story, my friend.”

“If you say so…By the way, there’s someone waiting for you outside.” Sam pointed. “A young man in a wheelchair.” At that Jon was shocked.

“ _Chto za khren'?_[1]” He questioned as if that was the most unlikely scenario that he could ever imagine. “I’m sorry about my manners, but I’ll have to ask you to leave right now, Sam.”

“Who is the guy? That is, if I may ask so.” Sam looked at him curiously.

“The last person I expected to see today. Now I’m officially worried.” Jon answered. “It’s Bran Stark and I must see him at once.”

“Oh! You mean Miss Stark’s brother?” Sam insisted. “The one that suffered the accident?”

“Precisely.” Jon nodded.

“Well, I’ll be on my way then. Good luck with Mr. Stark.”

Sam left the room and it didn’t take long for Bran to be brought inside by his simple minded assistant. Hodor smiled at Jon kindly and for a second it made him feel like a child again. Hodor was probably the only one in the Stark household that would never have a clue about what was going on around him, therefore he was always gentle and warm.

Bran told his assistant to wait outside and Hodor obeyed as usual. Once they were completely alone, Mr. Stark looked at him directly.

Brandon Stark was the fourth Stark kid and the second boy to be born in the family. He was younger than Arya by a year. A brilliant young man, with a formidable education; someone who had been groomed to be his older brother’s lawyer and counselor. If circumstances had been different, Bran would have inherited the leadership of the family, but an unfortunate accident took away the use of his legs and turned him into something the allies would hardly respect.

As far as Jon knew, Arya trusted him highly and they were nearly inseparable since she assumed the business. It didn’t mean that Bran was pleased with the scenario and Jon knew all too well that Cat had spent the last years talking about how much of a threat to their family Jon was.

“What a pleasure to see you again, Bran. To what do I own the pleasure?” Jon asked politely. “May I offer you something to drink? Vodka, perhaps?”

“I’ll pass it, thank you.” Bran answered. “I understand we have business to discuss, but first I would like to know if you have anything to do with Mr. Waters’ death.”

At that Jon took a seat. He looked at his cousin and could barely conceal his distress. He wondered for a second how Arya was dealing with the news.

“No. I received the report this morning and I was shocked to learn that he had died.” He answered carefully. “I know it’s hard to believe after our previous meeting, but I’ve promised your sister that I wouldn’t harm him. I’m not sure if you are aware of if, but I’m trying to make your sister happy and these news are the very opposite of what I wanted.”

“So I thought.” Bran pointed. “Arya told me about your proposal and the idea of an alliance.” Mr. Stark took a deep breath before facing Jon with all the dignity and arrogance only nobility, or something close to it, could give. “We may have our differences, but I believe this is the best course of action for us to pay back everything the Lannisters did to us. Therefore, I’m supporting you and I hope to call you family again soon.”

“I’m very glad to know that, but I guess we both know that this won’t happen if Arya chose to believe that I killed Waters.” Jon answered carefully. There was something in Bran’s lines that Jon was missing. There was something off about this sudden peace offer.

“Do you know who Gendry Waters were?” Bran asked as a matter of fact.

“A nobody that worked for your sister. Some say her lover. If that’s the case he deserved to die and I wish I had been the one to do the trick.” Jon said simply. Bran muffled a laugh at that before handling him a briefcase full of photographs and documents.

“Waters was one of Robert’s bastards. The eldest, to be more precise. After Robert’s death, Cersei got paranoid over the possibility of a bastard taking the place of her sons in the business. Gendry was already a notorious soldier at the time and it wasn’t a surprise that it drawn the attention of many that weren’t pleased with the prospect of a Lannister administration. Sounds familiar?”

That was basically a short report of Jon’s life. It wasn’t even a surprise that Arya took interest in Waters given his background.

“That means he had many enemies.” Jon concluded. “With Stannis dead, I assume Cersei and Jaime are the main suspects.”

“Precisely.” Bran smiled at him as if they had just reached an agreement. “That’s what I’ll keep in my sister’s mind. Since you arrived, Arya has lost focus. I need her back in the game and the only way of winning is with you playing on our side. I know your terms of cooperation.”

“Than what are you doing here? What do you want from me?” Jon asked curiously.

“I want you to be very careful around her now. Arya is mourning the death of a friend and she won’t be reasonable for a while. Be patient with her while I make sure she will realize the real enemies that we have.”

Bran’s conversation was soft and reasonable like the one of a scientist or an intellectual. While Arya was passionate and mostly explosive, Bran was cold minded and methodical. There was something he wasn’t telling Jon, though.

“You know that I fancy your sister and to find who killed Waters is in my best interests right now if I’m really determinate to marry her. I still don’t get why you are here telling me the obvious.” Jon pointed. “You think I’m usurping your family, Bran. I’ll never be good enough for Arya and most of all…I’m about to take the place that was meant to be yours. I don’t see why you would ever help me to deal with your sister in a moment as delicate as this. The only reason for you to be here is that you have your own agenda and you are planning to use me somehow.”

Bran sighed and looked back at Jon with cautious eyes.

“All you said is true, but you forgot something. Baratheons and Lannisters have taken away everything we hold dear.” Bran said in an unusual way. For the first time Jon could see the anger boiling within his eyes. “Because of them my father and brother are dead. Because of them your parents are dead. Because of them my family had to run away. Sansa was hurt; Arya was forced to live in disguise while you were in prison. Look at me…I’m restricted to this chair because of them, so if I have to kill, lie and manipulate people in order to get revenge, you can be sure that I will. I would even accept you stealing my rightful place and give you my sister naked in a silver platter if I had to.”

“Should I presume that you are trying to put Waters’ death in the Lannisters’ bill so we both get out of this clean?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Cersei demanding his death sounds like the obvious thing and she would try to blame you to fuel the dispute between you and Arya. I just want to make sure that she will be exposed and both our families can turn to fight the right enemy instead of engaging in a petty dispute that is likely to undermine our efforts of peace.” Bran’s voice sounded practical, but he wouldn’t be there if he didn’t need someone to protect him from Arya just in case she decided to suspect her baby brother.

“It’s a pretty way to tell me that you killed the guy.” Jon muffled a laugh, making him blush a little. “Fear not, cousin. I don’t want Arya to think that I killed Gendry Waters, just like I don’t want her to blame you for such an atrocity. If you say that Cersei had a lot to gain from his death, I believe you. Now we just need the proofs present to Arya and make sure _voltchitsa_ will hunt down the right person.”

“Don’t be absurd. Who would ever suspect a cripple like me of killing someone as strong as that Bull?” Bran asked kindly. Jon couldn’t help noticing that Brandon Stark had grown into a dangerous young man. His fragile appearance would never suggest someone with a dark heart, and yet…Wars had come and wars had gone, but the Starks endured. When the snow covered the city and the cold winds blown the wolves would come out of the den. Bran was a wolf to the bone.

“You would never hurt your sister in such a way. That’s something we have in common. We both love Arya too much to ever consider hurting her.” Jon agreed. “How is she now?”

“Taking care of the preparations to his funeral and gathering information. You’ll want to present these documents to her once she comes to you.” Bran said in a pragmatic tone. “She will find photos from security cameras, exams for toxins and other things that will connect Water’s death to the Lannisters. Tell her you’ve jumped ahead and did the job first, then offer her help to catch Jaime and Cersei.”

“Nothing that I haven’t offered her already. Still…Arya required time to think about my offer.” Jon couldn’t help feeling outraged about her reluctance. He had expected her to accept without a second thought. He expected her to actually be happy about it. What he got was a reluctant bride that seemed to be eager to find away to get read of her suitor. “You want me to cover you and protect your crippled ass? Fine! I can do this, but you’ll have to make Arya accept my proposal. I want it to be big! I want it to be massive! I want that _Babayaga_ you call _mama_ to smile and keep telling the guests how happy she is about getting a new son.”

“It will be done.” Bran said in a placid way. He seemed to find Jon’s plans rather funny somehow. “Arya will hate every second of it, but you can have your new rich display of fortune and power. It will be funny to watch. I just can’t guarantee that _matushka_ will be happy about it. She demanded your head when Arya told her about your plans.”

“Nothing new in that.” Jon snorted at that. “I’ll have a pretty good time kidnapping her baby daughter from her house and throwing the money at her face.”

“Whatever makes you feel more manly and confident. My sister will get you back to reality as soon as the feast is done anyway.” Bran sounded bored and slightly amused by Jon’s ambitions. “So…We have a deal. I suggest you to pay her a visit later today. My sister is in need of comfort even if she will never admit it.”

“May I ask you something, Bran?” Jon’s question was reluctant for a second.

“Shoot it.” Bran looked at him with a hint of curiosity.

“Was he Arya’s lover?” Jon looked down at the envelope with the documents to avoid any eye contact with Bran.

“Yes.” Bran replied bluntly and Jon had to take a deep breath to keep his rage under control. “It started a year after you went to prison. I guess he reminded my sister of you somehow. As far as I know, Arya finished it shortly after the rumors of you getting out of prison started.” Bran seemed quite tense while mentioning the topic, even so his voice was full of concern toward his sister. “I need Arya to remember who she is in order to command this family. You are family and you are way too valuable to us at this point. Having my sister divided between lovers was a risk I wasn’t willing to take, so…Consider it my wedding gift to you.”

In a way that piece of information had hurt him more than a knife put through his heart. Suddenly Jon wanted to cry or to destroy something with his bare hands.

“She loves you, Jon.” Bran snorted. “She has always loved you. These flirts…These affairs…They have been nothing but a way to fulfill the empty space in her heart once you were gone. Gendry’s background is proof enough of it. Be gentle to her. Even if she didn’t love him, Waters was a friend and Arya will need time to recover from the loss.”

“Thank you, Bran.” Jon answered with difficulty.

 _“Ty nasha sem'ya **[2]**.”_ Bran answered solemnly before offering his hand in what looked like a peace offer. “I’ll be waiting for your visit later today. _Mama_ won’t be home for a while. She is angry at Arya.”

“Good.” Jon nod quietly.

Xxxx

In the end he didn’t need to visit the Stark estate. Jon went to the hospital to take care of the bill and the documentation to liberate the body and to his surprise someone named Arya Stark had already recognized Waters’ body. She claimed to be his girlfriend.

Jon sighed at the information and asked to the attendant if Mr. Waters’ girlfriend was still in the building. He was informed she was supervising the removal of the body and collecting his belongings that remained in the room. An unusual procedure, but Jon was convinced that Arya had paid handsomely to have some time to deal with the news.

In many ways it was for the best to meet her in neutral zone and alone. It would give Jon the chance to present himself not as a rival, but as a friend and an equal. Arya would never deal with his presence gracefully, but at least she would feel less tempted to violent actions since they were in a public place.

Jon had to admit that he wasn’t prepared to face the fact that Arya was lost in mourn over another man’s death. His pride and ego were bruised, but it was his heart what have been broken beyond emend. Jon was painfully aware that he could never demand fidelity from her when he hadn’t engaged in celibacy when they were apart. Still…The thought that in another time, under different circumstances, Arya had loved someone else was something that would eat him from inside out slowly and painfully.

He found her sitting by the bedside, looking at it as if Water’s body were still there and would react to her touch any moment. Her eyes were red and puffy and Jon tried to remember the last time he had seen her crying. Arya had been a child back then and Jeyne Poole had called her names…

Jon didn’t say a thing in respect to her feelings. No matter how much that display of sentimentality eroded his soul, the least he could do was to respect that moment. In a way it reminded him of Ygritte. In many ways it felt like justice.

Arya raised her head to face him and just like that all the madness and the rage only grief can provoke were brought to surface and she ran toward him. Jon received every punch and scratch as Arya called him an _ubiytsa_ _ **[3]**_ and a _dikiy_ _ **[4]**_. He waited and he waited until her strength decayed, her punches became feeble and Arya buried her face in his chest to sob freely.

Jon embraced her then and gently stroke her hair as he had always done whenever Arya came to his arms in need of comfort and reassurance. The fact that she was crying over another man and possibly a broken heart meant little in comparison to the depth of the bond they shared.

That was why Arya belonged to him in a way words would never explain. That was why his heart was hers to do whatever she wanted with it, even torn every fiber of it apart. In the end, no matter the battle, no matter their losses, no matter their blood…The only place they would find peace was within the warmth of each others’ arms.

“I didn’t do it, _vozlyublennaya_.” He whispered brokenly. “You told me this was your condition…Why would I dare killing him if that meant loosing you for good?”

“You wanted him dead.” Arya replied breathlessly, still crying with her face hidden in his chest. “You sent him to the hospital in the first place.”

“Yes, that was my fault.” Jon admitted. “That and nothing else. I’m not the only enemy Waters had and you know it. Instead of blaming me for this…Maybe you should focus in finding the right murderer. I already started my own investigation. If you want to see what I got so far I can show you.”

“Who?” Arya asked in a hollow tone.

“Who has a lot to gain from us fighting against each other? A war between us weakens the North. You have done a pretty reckless job concealing your love affair and I did an even poorer job concealing the fact that I’m not interested in sharing my woman. We are like a barrel of gunpowder.”

Jon felt her shoulders shrinking within his arms as if Arya was suddenly afraid of what he might do to her…His unfaithful mistress. As if he could ever hurt her without risking hurting himself.

“I know, Arya.” He said calmly. “He is dead now and I’m not really afraid of ghosts. Cry as much as you need now. Burry him in cold ground and lay flowers on his grave every now and then if you must. As long as you stay warm and alive, as long as you come back home to me, I don’t care.”

Arya hugged him tighter and for a second the memory of her childhood crossed his mind like a shooting star. She used to do that whenever she was afraid or feeling lost.

“I don’t want to be alone again.” She said in a broke voice. That was her way of saying she needed him too.

“ _YA zdes' moya malen'kaya volchitsa. **[5]**”_ He whispered gently. “You’ll never be alone again.”

 

.

 

   

   

 

[1] What the fuck?!

[2] You are our family.

[3] Murderer

[4] Liar

[5] I’m here, my little she-wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Don't be mad at me because of this chapter. There was a lot of reluctance from Arya's part in the last chapters and there was a lot of unfinished business between her and Jon. I needed her to be motivated to fight the Lannisters and Gendry works as a trigger. This definitely has an impact in her relationship with Jon. I wanted to develop the concept that no matter how much jealousy affects him, Jon is not willing to cross the line and hurt Arya in anyway even if he is the one being hurt instead. There is complicity between them and understanding.  
> About Bran...Well, he was supposed to be the leader. He is skilled and he is determinate to get revenge at any cost. Nobody is a cinnamon roll in this (maybe Rickon is). He is not afraid of lying and manipulating in order to get what he wants and they are all Starks. This family knows how to survive and that means they are not afraid of displaying their darker shades.  
> I hope you like it and reviews are highly appreciated.  
> P.S.: I want to properly thank all the readers that made edits of this fanfic! I loved all of them!  
> P.S.2: There is a wedding coming!


	5. Chapter 5

During the following months the headlines exposed the business of what sounded like a massive criminal organization. Politicians, federal judges, police officers and a number of notorious citizens were under investigation, including Kevan Lannister.

The operation was being called Reins of Castemere, in memory of a massacre that had marked the city years ago and that had been supposedly commanded by Tywin Lannister.

To anyone naïve enough to believe that sudden interest in Lannister’s business had anything to do with the efficiency of the system and justice, those days had sounded like hope. The truth in the underworld was another entirely.

Jon had been bribing everyone on his way and setting in motion his plan of undermining every Lannister business; from extortion to human traffic. If Jon was making sure that all the right people would hear about the new boss in town, Arya had taken it upon her to eliminate high profile targets. The Ghost of Harrenhall was back in town and those were days of fear for everyone that had wronged the Starks.

If the newspapers were calling that investigation as “a new hope”, the criminal scene had a more accurate alias to it. That was the bloody courtship between the Targaryen chief and the _Voltchitsa_.

That was the bloody ransom Jon was paying for a Stark bride, like the old eastern traditions demanded. Not that such an offer would ever be enough to pay for the privilege according to her family, but all the clans agreed that it was a ransom made of vengeance worthy of a queen.

Of course that would be a tremendous wedding and Jon had made sure of it. To his surprise, Sansa Stark had been gracious enough to step ahead of him and take charge over the preparations to the wedding. From his future sister-in-law he received nothing but a phone call informing that if she was to agree with that madness anyway she would make of her sister’s wedding the greatest event of the season.

The celebration would last two days and every business partner and relevant citizen was to be invited, including Cersei, Jaime, Tommen Lannister and his girlfriend Margaery Tyrell. It would be such a huge event that no family would ever dare to miss the chance to see and be seen among the finest names in society.

During those months Jon hasn’t been able to see Arya as much as he would like to. The preparations for the wedding and the whole plot to destabilize all the Lannister’s business have consumed a lot of time from both of them. Besides, even though he had a hard time dealing with it, Arya was still mourning Waters in her own way and Jon had promise to respect it after all.

That meant Arya hasn’t been anywhere near his bed in the meantime, which was highly frustrating in many ways. Violence was a good way to keep his mind busy and he had been using and abusing of such a convenient excuse to reinforce who was the new boss in town. If there was any doubt about how ruthless he could be, those have been put to rest along with a number of dubious allies.

In one of the rare occasions Arya came over his place, she had demanded to see the documents he had to prove the Lannisters’ involvement in Gendry’s death. Jon presented to her everything Bran had given to him, exactly as he had been instructed to do. He even had to admit that his soon to be brother-in-law had done a terrific job in forging and collecting every sort of evidence that could frame Cersei and Jaime. Not that it was an impossible thing to do since they had a lot of reason to want the Bull’s head, but still…Bran’s talent commit atrocities and escape with his white clothes intact was remarkable.

Arya looked at those documents and seemed to be convinced enough. If there was any doubt in her about Jon’s participation in the event, she kept it to herself, which wasn’t something she usually did. Arya looked at his eyes straightly as if evaluating if there was any truth in him and if she could trust his word.

The dangerous thing about that kind of affair was that both of them knew there was a limit to their mutual trust. They trusted the intentions behind the words, but not the words. Arya could hardly blame him for lying about Gendry’s death, once she had lied to his face over and over again about her affair with the guy. To some extension, Jon wasn’t lying since he hadn’t killed Waters and the only evidences he had about the case led straight to Cersei and Jaime Lannister.

If those documents were false, he wasn’t the one to be blamed and to that he had a lot to thank Bran for.

“I guess I should be on my way.” She declared eventually while raising from her seat. “With this entire wedding thing I feel exhausted.”

“You can always stay here over the night and rest a bit.” Jon suggested in an effort of overcoming the sudden suspicious aura around them. His movements mimicking hers.

“I shouldn’t be here at all, since you want this farce of a wedding to be as traditional as traditional can be.” Arya replied in full sarcasm. “Besides, I don’t want to give _matushka_ any more reasons to be displeased with me.”

“Well, of course there is a limit to the traditionalism. No matter how much you avoid me, you won’t become a virgin again. I took that from you a long time ago, so what’s the point of this celibacy?” He teased, fully aware of the fact he was entering dangerous territory. Arya looked at him without an ounce of amusement.

“I’m not in the mood.” She declared. “I asked you time. I asked you to respect the moment since I am mourning not only a lost friend but also my brother. If you want me to be really interested in this marriage, than you should leave me be for now.”

“I wonder how long this mourning will last.” Jon pointed without much patience. “I can wait until the wedding. I’ve waited for years, after all. I just want you to remember that you’ve accepted my proposal and I am very much alive. Waters isn’t coming back and although I tolerate the idea that you had some fun while I was gone, I refuse to be denied because of a dead man.”

“So much for respecting my feelings.” Arya replied in an acid tone. “Do you want me to give you a medal in honor to your patience? Should we talk about the red head whore you killed too?”

At that Jon looked at her with shock. It couldn’t be…He had covered his track in that a long time ago. Arya smirked at him dangerously.

“Don’t act as if I’m the unfaithful one here. I know very well that you have a past and several women in it.”

“Not several!” He tried to claim in his defense. Arya laughed at his face shamelessly.

“I forgot how much of an old fashion you can be.” Arya said. “Fine. Not several, but you do have a tendency to keep the same girl for a long time. You are methodical and you hate the idea of siring a bastard without a pedigree. Did you think I would have you without taking a look at every skeleton you have inside your closet? As I told you before, I’m no longer that little girl you used to have fun with.”

“You know very well that they had been nothing but a temporary distraction.” Jon insisted. “You won’t see me mourning other women, especially not now that you agreed to be my woman.”

“Why should my jealousy be neglect while yours is respected?” Arya questioned sharply. “Why is my so called treason any worst than yours? I knew, Jon. From day one! Or do you think _matushka_ and _papa_ would let this pass without rubbing at my face how much you wasn’t worthy of me? Do you want to complain about how I cheated you? Fine! Let us start with how I only meat Gendry once I found out about your red head whore!”

At that Jon was speechless. Arya had every right to call him on his wrong doings and demand respect from him. Still, there was a part of him that would never accept that she might have loved someone else. Once he claimed he wasn’t afraid of ghosts. Apparently he was terribly wrong about it.

“I’m sorry.” He said when there were no more arguments to be used in his defense. “I know I’m being stupid and absurd in my demands most of the time. I just…I just can’t accept it as I thought I could.”

“What you can’t accept? The fact that I’m human and that I like sex just as much as you do?” She provoked him once more.

“No.” He answered simply. “I can’t accept that I could have lost you. I can’t accept that you have fallen in love with someone else and…I’m might be too stubborn to realize that the only reason why you accepted my proposal is because I’m too damn convenient to you and your family right now. I came back home with an idea. I thought I would arrive and you would come straight to my arms as you used to. Instead of it, I had to anger and outrage you over and over again so you would come and see me. Even now I feel like some villain from a cheap novel and no matter how ridiculous is this role I’m playing…I just can’t stop because I’m too afraid that you’ll leave me.”

“I had my reasons to accept, Jon.” Arya replied soberly. “Not because you tricked me or because you are convenient. Do you want to know why I chose Gendry? Because he reminded me of you in many ways. The same sad story. The same feeling of rejection and abandonment. He wasn’t half as cunning and sneaky as you are, but he tried to compensate it with obedience. He was easy to deal, because he had no ambition; but this was also the very reason why I could never love him completely. Gendry would never understand the fears and the ambitions we have. He would live and die as a soldier, while you have always aimed for the high grounds. I have always loved and respected you for this because that meant that you understood why I would never settle for any less than what I wanted. If there is such a thing as soul mates…That’s exactly what we are.” Arya touched his face gently and kissed his cheek. “That’s why I wouldn’t have accepted any other man but you. That’s why I would never love another man, but you.”

“And yet you avoid my touch whenever you have the chance.” He sighed. “I miss you, _voltchitsa_.”

His rough hands caressed her face. This thumb touched her sensuous lips before he approached her for a cold and distant kiss. That was frustrating.

“Patience.” She said in a whisper. “Once everything is settled and we have total control over the North, I’m sure I’ll be able to think about us. Let us hope all this waiting will make our wedding night memorable.”

At that he kissed her neck and bit her earlobe playfully, making her laugh.

“Of that you can be sure.” He said. “I want to taste you with my mouth. Kiss you down there until your toes curl and you are crying out my name. I want to feel your nails scratching my back as I enter you. Feel your breath against my neck as you moan. Oh _voltchitsa_ …I want to hear your voice of pleasure cursing in Russian as I take you again and again until the whole house awakes with the sounds we make.”

This time Arya kissed him fiercely in answer, making Jon’s body react almost immediately by pulling her closer. That was how easy it was for them to set each other on fire. They were like fire and gunpowder. They had been made for each other and their passion was fated to burn everything around them.

Arya went home shortly after, leaving him alone with his longing.

If Jon was having a hard time to administrate the fact that she has had other men in her life, Arya on the other hand was having trouble with her own family.

Her mother had been acting as if Arya was dead, or as if nothing at all was happening around her. Rickon was somewhat thrilled with the news, since he had found in Jon another male figure to look up to. Sansa hated the idea just as much as their mother did, but nobody ever mastered the art of etiquette and courtesy like her sister. Bran was probably the only one who thought it to be a good idea and he had no more reason to like Jon than Sansa did.

Arya had allowed everything to be decided in her name so far. The huge celebration and the formality in the public office was nothing but an elaborate performance to their enemies and allies. It was the consolidation of their deal, so why should Arya care about flowers, towels and napkins? It would be just another day, just another business deal, only this time she would have to wear a white dress. The aftermath of it was another matter entirely.

Jon was there, avid for another chance and dreaming of starting a family as he had always wanted. Just the sound of it was enough to scare the hell out of her, even if Arya had little doubts about her feelings for him and the benefits of such a union.

She arrived home just to face Sansa waiting for her. Her sister looked at her with a prideful smile as she carried what looked like a dress in her arms. Arya sighed at it. She wondered how much that thing had cost and how uncomfortable it would be.

“It just arrived. If we have had more time, it could have been an exclusive model. It’s gorgeous nonetheless.” Sansa declared.

“As long as it’s white, I really don’t care.” Arya answered as she took of her shoes and guns. “I’m sure you did a great job. I trust your good taste in fashion.”

“That’s a relief to know that you at least trust me to pick your wedding dress, since you don’t trust me for anything else.” The accusation was expected, Arya just wasn’t in the mood to deal with her sister’s fits.

“You have claimed before that you lack the stomach and the mind for the business, so why are we having this conversation in the first place?” Arya questioned immediately.

“You could have asked my opinion about this whole wedding thing. Between us, I’m the one with an experience in the matter.” Sansa said calmly. That was it. She wanted a girl talk.

“And every time we had to deal with your husbands once they started to become a nuisance. I wonder how long it will take until you decide that Willas isn’t good enough for you, although I think his bank account is pretty good one.” Arya replied sharply. “I know exactly whom I’m getting married to. I know exactly what to expect. The deal is a good one. In fact is the best scenario we could ever get, so what exactly you have to add to the picture that I’m failing to see?”

“You are being drag into a marriage with a man that has outraged us over and over again. I know you and Jon have a lot of history. I can even admit that he would never hurt you if he had a choice, but he won’t give you any chance to escape the trap he had prepared. That’s eating you inside out. You are feeling trapped and you got used to determinate everything around you.” Sansa pointed.

“There’s nothing new about this. If you don’t have anything else to say, than you should leave my room.” Arya snapped back.

“Even under such circumstances…The sister I know wouldn’t miss the chance of spending hours and hours in Jon’s bed. Don’t even try to deny it. The two of you have always acted like two animals in heat.”

“I really hope you have a point with all this talking.” Arya growled at her, but Sansa didn’t even blink at her sister’s reaction.

“What I’m trying to say is that you would be acting with such lack of interest if you believed Jon to be blameless in Gendry’s death.” Sansa replied sharply. “You are getting married to the guy you have always loved. The one you had spend years trying to get out of jail! Even if he had cheated on you and you have paid him back in the same coin, nothing has ever stood between you. Now you are letting others decide your life as if you were an spectator, something you never did before and the reason for this apathy is the fact that you believe Jon to be responsible for Gendry’s death. Now you are torn between your loyalty to your dead friend and your loyalty to Jon.”

“Now, you get out of here. This is painful enough without you rubbing it at my face. I’m tired of losing people. I’m tired of everybody having an opinion about this marriage. I’m tired of dealing with our mother and all the pressure of this job.” Arya roared like a wounded animal. “Even if he killed Gendry, right now Jon is the only person that I can share this burden with and is willing to help with our revenge! I can’t afford losing him again even if it’s killing me to think that he had murdered my friend!”

“He didn’t do it, Arya.” Sansa said placidly. At that Arya stopped to look at her sister carefully.

“How could you know?” Arya questioned immediately. “Jon had the motives and the means to kill Gendry. What proof do you have of his innocence?”

“It happens that our little brother isn’t exactly careful with his laptop.” Sansa said calmly. “I was curious when he asked what poison I have used to put Jeoffrey to rest. I told him the name and although I was curious about his sudden interests I asked no questions. In two days Gendry was dead; you were a hot mess while Jon was became the logical suspect. I checked Bran’s computer and I found some very interesting documents. Toxicological exams to be more precise. I’m sure you have already seen it, since Jon presented it to you. Bran went after him to give all the files pointing to the Lannisters. Jon was interested in having evidences of his innocence, while Bran was interested in putting you back in the game fighting the right enemy while our baby brother escaped blameless in it.” Arya could almost see the victorious smile forming in the corner of Sansa’s mouth, but she was too polite to mock her sister like that.

“Why would you tell me this?” Arya asked. “You are now accusing our brother with which purpose?”

“There is no such a thing as good guys in this family. Bran is just as ruthless as you are and I can’t even blame him for killing the one person standing between us and our vengeance.” Sansa said placidly, almost bored. “As long as you were worried about protecting Waters from Jon; as long as you were divided…You wouldn’t focus in our goals. Gendry was a risk we couldn’t take. I’m deeply sorry about your loss, but as long as he lived he would prevent you from being who you are. You are not someone’s babysitter. You are the head of this family and with Jon’s support we will be unstoppable.”

“So you are basically telling me that my entire family was willing to sell me for good old revenge. Why should it make me any happy? Worst…Why should I ever forgive you or Bran for this?” Sansa smiled at that question.

“I’ve married for convenience. I’ve shared my bed with men I despised. I would do much more to have this family secure and the Lannisters dead for good. That’s my way of helping my family, sister.” Her voice was a sad one. “You’ve done much too. You took it upon you to control the business and act as Robb and _papa_ would. You are now the reason why we are feared again. This marriage of yours…It doesn’t have to be for convenience, even if Jon is a very convenient match. Consider this my wedding gift to you. He didn’t kill Gendry and if he lied to you was to protect this family. Hate Bran, if you must hate someone. I’m sure you’ll forgive him eventually, but at least in the meantime you’ll try to be happy with your man.” Sansa handled the dress to her sister with an adamant expression upon her face. “Now, you’ll put this dress on and you’ll pretend that this is the happiest moment of your life.”

Xxxxxx

The day started with a fuss. Sansa and Rickon came to her room to take Arya out of bed and make sure she would be dressed and somewhat presentable once the hairdresser and other professionals arrived. The greatest task of the day was to make sure she would look more like a bride, instead of relapse punk.

Nothing would ever make Arya Stark feel more uncomfortable than being surrounded by people that had the sole purpose of turning her into a modern princess. Although she liked the practical mindset that her business required and all the comfort of an old pair of jeans, a day pretending to be something like Sansa wouldn’t kill her. She had played roles before and she was adaptable. That farce could only work if Jon posed as the all mighty leader of both clans, allowing her to keep playing her part in the shadows.

A bit of makeup, a fancy hair and a white dress would serve as her mask for the day. Nobody has ever feared the princess or the damsel in distress. Anyone who thought her incapable of ruling in her own right would sleep peacefully with the idea that Arya Stark had abandoned her position to become a good housewife. As if Jon had ever liked something like that. Any talk of rebellion would be silenced and the North would finally turn against the Lannisters.

After two hours she was standing in the center of her room, stuck inside an exquisite wedding dress and looking at the image of a foreign woman reflected in the mirror. Arya could barely believe her eyes and for a brief second even she bought the whole story of a modern fairy tale.

Her tattoos had been covered, even those in her fingers. That meant she was no one again. She was just a woman. Little more than a piece of property according to their code. Arya felt a bit like a shadow. A mouse, a sheep, a ghost of the fearsome assassin.

The house was full of women, chatting and drinking while waiting for the groom to arrive to claim his bride.

Arya observed from her window the limo arriving, closely followed by a number of cars caring Jon’s personal security team.

He got out of the car wearing an impeccable tux. His hair pulled back and tied in a man bun that had certainly been someone else’s idea. His bear was well cut and all the tattoos in his hands were exposed for the world to see and fear the meaning behind them.

Once he entered the house there was a fuss. He was received by Bran at the entrance as all of the women in the house paraded in front of him with questions about her. She could hear his voice, even with all the noise in the house, answering to every question and politely avoiding the indecorous remarks of some girls.

Before Jon reached her room another person showed up. Her mother was all dressed in black, mourning her husband, son and the wedding of her daughter for sure. Cat Stark didn’t say a thing. Her sole purpose was to perform her part in that show, probably because Bran commanded her to do so.

“You are way too pretty to marry such a man.” Cat Stark declared. Even if she wasn’t pleased with the wedding, she seemed proud enough of Arya’s figure. “It’s a pity that your _papa_ isn’t here to see you right now. I’m sure he would be proud of you.”

“Thank you.” Her voice barely came out. “I hope you’ll understand what I’m doing and that you’ll forgive me one day.”

Cat laughed a dry and humorless laugh.

“I understand very well what you are doing.” She said sourly. “You are marring the bastard you have always loved. Despite of our best efforts, you never considered choosing someone of a good family or someone that would keep you safe. You love him. This plan of yours…This farce…This is just a poor excuse so you can tell me and the world that you had no choice in the matter. I understand and I respect you for being brave an obstinate enough to take whatever you want. You are a true Stark.” Cat kissed her face tenderly while her eyes could barely contain her tears. “But don’t ask for my forgiveness when you are marring the man that has always been a threat to all of us. I lost my elder son, Bran is stuck in a wheelchair for life, Rickon was kidnapped and your father killed…In the end, every war this family fought in nearly thirty years has been because of him. Rhaegar’s bastard.”

A knock at her door announced that Jon had finally arrived to claim his bride. At that Catelyn Stark put on her best regal face. She would never smile at the sight of Jon entering her house to defy her authority once more, but Mrs. Stark would never dishonor her own image of respect. She had a duty to her family and her own honor as a Tully to preserve.

Jon entered the room and the air around them became thick with tension and all the weight of words unsaid. He walked toward Cat Stark with a proud smile and kissed her cheeks affectionately.

“ _Matushka!_ ” He said joyously. “I am a happy man for finally being able to call myself part of your family. I pray that you will accept me as one of your sons.” Cat clenched her teeth at that. “Since I’m taking away one of your daughter, it’s only fair that I should compensate you somehow.” With a ceremonious and dramatic gesture, Jon took from the pocket of his jacket an envelope and gave it to Cat. “The documents inside this envelope give you full control over a generous income and the property of a nice house, very much like this one, near a beautiful river. I hope that you’ll be happy there.”

“Are you casting me out of my own house?” Cat questioned with cold anger in her eyes. Jon smirked at her, perfectly aware that the simple suggestion of that would never fail to anger his own bride.

“Not at all. This house is yours for as long as you want it to be. The other house is for your pleasure and amusement only. It is fully accessible to Bran and has a lot of games to keep Rickon entertained. There are rooms for all of your living children and even the grandchildren I have yet to give you.” Jon teased her. Arya could tell he was having the time of his life.

“It’s very thoughtful of you. Thank you. I pray for my daughter to be blessed with an early widowhood and a barren husband.” Cat answered back with a plastic smile on her face.

“Sorry to disappoint you, _matushka_. My prenuptial exams were pretty good and there’s nothing I would like more than to give you a lot of grandchildren. We will call the first girl Catelyn in your honor.” He smiled back at her before properly looking at Arya, who had been watching the whole interaction in apprehension. “Since the ransom is paid, now I claim my bride.” He offered Arya his tattooed hand. “Will you have me, _vozlyublennaya **[1]**?”_

“Yes.” Arya offered him her hand and Jon kissed each of her fingers with devotion before conducting her out of the house so they could make their union official.

 

  

 

 

   

   

 

 

 

[1] Beloved, sweetheart, mistress, lover...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fast to write and I'm shocked with how big it got. There's a lot of things going on and since a Russian wedding is a huge event, I'll divide it in two parts. I hope you like it and reviews are always appreciated.  
> P.S.: Naysa, I'll be waiting for your edits <3 XD


	6. Chapter 6

They entered the limo together and in silence. Until the door was closed and they were alone in the back seat things were all about business. Arya avoided looking at him, while trying to accommodate the voluminous tulle skirt. Jon grabbed to flute glasses and an open bottle of champagne to serve them. He offered her a glass and in many ways it looked like a peace offer between them.

Arya accepted it and drank the damn thing in a single gulp, making him laugh openly at her nervous attitude. The car started to move. Those were the last minutes of freedom.

“I’ll need something stronger to get through the day.” Arya confessed. She could feel her head starting to ache.

“We can always have a sip of vodka, if you like.” Jon suggested with a smirk. “Nobody really expect us to behave, so why should we?”

“You tell me. This whole circus was your idea. I would rather go to the _zag_ with a couple of witnesses and be done with it in a discreet way. You are the real bride here.” Arya said sharply, making him laugh out loud.

“I would never let this chance to pass me by unnoticed. I’m marrying into royalty. You can bloody bet that I want the whole world to know it.” Jon said in good humor. “Just like I want the whole world to know that I’m marrying the woman I love. I’ve dreamed about this moment several times. Reality is beating ever expectation I’ve ever had.”

“Including the part in which you rub your victory in my mother’s face just to humiliate her a bit more.” Arya pointed sarcastically. “Not that she didn’t deserve it, but you do know how to be a royal pain in the ass. The house was a bit of too much of an extravaganza even to your standards.”

“No matter how much we hate each other, I do respect Catelyn for everything she is. For better or for worst, she gave birth to you and I grew up under her roof so…I’m giving her a new home in retribution. Consider it my way to thank her for the patience and the expertise in producing the finest bride I could ever get. Rickon will love the place. Sansa will have a brand new place to decorate. Bran will have some independency inside the house. Our room there is quite cozy too. Has a nice view to the river. We can even have some horses in the property. Ride like we used to do in our vacations. How does it sound?”

“Very much unlike us now a day.” Arya laughed incredulously. “I would love to ride again, to be honest.”

Jon kissed her cheek fondly in answer, making her smile for the first time in months.

“I’m glad you like the idea. You look gorgeous.” He said in a caring and pleased way. “If I may ask…What happened to your tattoos?”

“Sansa had them covered with makeup. She insisted that I would look awful with them showing.” Arya answered as matter of fact, making Jon snort in disdain.

“Well…I guess we can find some time for you to remove this shit so you can display them.” Jon declared solemnly. “I don’t care about what your sister says. You are what you are and I’m marrying all of it. I’m not embarrassed of anything about you. You are Arya Stark, not a nobody.” He insisted.

“I would like that. I would at least feel a bit more like myself with my tattoos showing.” Arya sighed as the car stopped in front of the public building where the official ceremony would take place. “I guess this is it.”

“Are you ready?” Jon asked as he held her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I was born ready.” She said stubbornly.

Jon got out of the car first and offered Arya his hand to help her out. She looked like something between a Bolshoi Prima Ballerina and a princess in that dress. The heart shape bodice was covered in Swaroviski crystals left her shoulders and neck exposed, making her as gracious as a swan. Her hair in a messy low bun and on top of her head a tiara. Nothing in Arya had been chosen by her, of that Jon was sure. Sansa must have picked everything and for that he had a lot to thank.

He asked for a bride of noble stock and that was exactly what Arya looked like once Sansa had worked her magic. They entered the public register office together, like a royal couple about to declare their will of joining their lives in matrimony. Sansa and Sam were there, calmly waiting to serve as witnesses to the formality.

Jon stood proudly by her side once the ceremony started. Neither of them was given to religious traditions. The practical nature of an official ceremony suited them better. Arya didn’t say anything but the necessary while her facial expression was impossible to read. She was far from being a happy and emotional bride. In fact, she dealt with the whole thing as if that was just an ordinary formality.

In thirty minutes it was all said and done. Documents were signed and rings exchanged in front of witnesses and the public officer. She closed her eyes for a brief second while Jon kissed the top of her hand after giving her the ring. Somewhere outside the room Mendel’s nuptial march was playing in celebration to the new couple and Jon kissed her lips gently to mark the moment. Still it felt like a commercial transition.

Sam and Sansa congratulated them as it would be expected. Pictures were taken and the officer wished them a long and happy life together. Arya didn’t seem to care at all about what was being said inside that room and Jon could only conclude that Gendry’s issue was still weighting on her mind and shoulders.

He was getting what he wanted, but why did it tasted like an empty victory and a curse from her mother?

They walked back to the car and Jon proposed a toast in honor to the moment. Arya repeated his gestures and drank the champagne as if they were in a business lunch. The limo started to move again, heading to the mansion rented for the party.

“Before we get to the party...There’s something I want to give you.” Jon declared solemnly before picking up a wooden box he had kept inside the limo’s cabinet. Arya looked at it with curiosity while he carefully opened it. “I’ll give you a more suitable gift to a bride when we are in front of our guests, but I think you’ll like this one better.”

Arya looked inside the box just to face an exquisite set of pistols, with the hilt displaying a superb work with golden lines and mother of pearl. She grinned at it with sheer joy. There was nothing she loved more than a brand new gun.

It was actually the first time in months that Jon saw a genuine smile on her face. The first time she let her feelings show.

“It’s gorgeous!” Arya declared. “Personalized! How does it feel in hands? Have you tested it?”

“Worked just fine for me. Good caliber, light, small enough for you to hide under your skirt if you want. Did you like it? I wanted to give you a wedding gift that you would actually care about.” He asked kindly.

“Are you kidding?! I loved it!” Arya let a triumphant laugh escape her mouth and that made Jon’s heart burst with joy. “It reminds me of my birthday. Remember? You gave me my first revolver and I still have it.”

“I thought you would have outgrown your old toys by now.” Jon laughed. “That was a good gun though.”

“I didn’t buy you anything. I’m sorry about it.” Arya said awkwardly and Jon couldn’t help grinning at her like a fool.

“You have just been pronounced my lawful wife in front of witnesses. The only thing I’ve ever wanted from you was the privilege of calling you my wife.” That sounded tacky and cheesy even to his standards, but that was the truth nonetheless. “If you want to give me something anyway...Why don’t we take some vacations once things are quiet here? We can take the time to make a baby or two.” She rolled her eyes at that.

“Ask something reasonable, like something I can buy with my credit card.” Arya answered immediately. “I’ve told you before; I’m not considering motherhood anytime soon.”

“We can discuss it later.” Jon agreed to disagree with her statement as he kissed her hand.

Arya’s sudden enthusiasm over the new gun disappeared as fast as it came. Once more she was silent and awkward around him, like a child too afraid of asking something.

“I need to make you an important question and I hope you won’t lie to me about it.” Arya declared soberly and Jon couldn’t help feeling that it was something about Waters. Why couldn’t that guy simply die and leave them alone?!

“I’ve never denied you anything, and I’m surely not starting it now that we are married. Just ask, _voltchitsa_.”

“It was Bran, wasn’t it?” The question came out and Jon could tell that Arya was heartbroken thanks to those words. “He killed Gendry and he gave you the documents that incriminated Cersei and Jaime.”

Jon considered denying it at first, but what would be the point in that? Arya had played along with his plans even if she suspected that. She wasn’t asking for a gentle lie that would allow her to keep a good relationship with her brother. She was asking for honesty from the man she had taken as her husband and Jon wouldn’t start that marriage with a lie, no matter what Bran had to say about it later.

“When I received the news of Gendry’s death, my first impulse was to start my private investigations. I knew you would blame me for that. I promised you that he would be safe and I failed, so I wanted to find the murder so I would at least have a chance to escape your anger.” Jon said with calculated words. “Bran came to my place on that day and gave me those documents. At first I was surprised at the gesture and obviously relieved. After a few minutes I realized that something was wrong about that. Nothing comes without a price in this family so I concluded the obvious. He isn’t afraid of manipulating people around him to get what he wants and if he wanted someone to cover his ass for doing that…Well, I had no problems with that. I needed to prove my innocence to you and I agreed with his plan just because I would rather give you another reason to hate the Lannister than to see you devastated over your brother’s treason.”

“I would rather have you telling the truth.” Arya pointed, but she didn’t seem angry at him. She was just disappointed.

“What good would come from it? You wouldn’t believe me, _voltchitsa_.” Jon insisted. “It sounded like a good plan. If you have quarrel with someone here, that’s your brother. I just tried to protect you from the ugliness of it. Now you know the truth and you are free to deal with it as you see fit. I lied to protect your relationship with your brother, just like you lied to me about not having an affair with Gendry to protect his life. You decide which one is worst.”

“There was a time in which we trusted each other.” Her voice came out brokenly. “What happened to us, Jon?”

“The business happened.” He said as he held her hand. “We know each other well enough to know the steps of the dance.  That’s why lies are pretty much useless. I wish I could tell you that things will be easier now, but the truth is that everyone will try to separate us. We are stronger together. Bran knows it. Sansa knows it. Even your _mama_ knows it. You can bet our enemies know it too, so I think it’s for the best for us to decide now. We either trust each other blindly and go on with our plan; or we risk getting killed in the middle of a nasty argument every time another lie, or omission comes between us.”

“Will you freak out every time you are faced with one of my former lovers?” Arya asked sharply. “I’m not sure if I can deal with you being all jealous and possessive over me.”

“I already know about your former lovers. I had them checked and that foreigner…You’ll have to agree with me that he will look better at the bottom of the sea. That guy will give you away to anyone who pays enough.”

“What have you done to them?” Arya looked at him in shock. Jon laughed.

“Nothing yet. I’m not even bothering myself with Dayne. I invited him to the party by the way.” Jon pointed as Arya looked at him in panic. “What? That guy is as gay as gay comes and I can’t believe you haven’t noticed it before. Maybe Satin can give him a good time, so everybody will get out of it happy.”

“Since when you got so liberal? Anything I should know happened to you in prison?” Arya asked with an eyebrow arched. Jon didn’t even bother to answer to her provocation.

“It’s not my business who my men fuck. If they work well I don’t care.” Jon said as a matter of fact. “See? I can be a reasonable man. I was the first you had and I bloody well intend to be the last one, so…The guys you had, you had. I hope you enjoyed it well because the only thing you’ll ever get from now on is me, unless you want a ménage. I won’t complain if you want to add another girl in our games.”

“Oh you wish!” She slapped his arm, making Jon grin at her widely. “These conditions go both ways, just for you to know. You did all of this to get this girl here so I hope you are sure of your decision.”

“I’m damn sure of it, _voltchitsa_.” He answered fervently and instead of a reply what he received was a ferocious kiss he wasn’t waiting for.

Arya grabbed him by his hair and shut him up using her lips and tongue. His hands answered her silent command immediately trying to find her legs under the ridiculous amount of tulle that formed her skirt.

She tried to saddle him while trying to put some of the fabric way without ruining the whole wedding visual, without much success.

Jon kissed her neck between growls of frustration. At that point, after months without sex, he was more than ready to anticipate their wedding night inside that car…If only that dress would cooperate with his intentions.

“Just for the record. I’ve never heard of a bride that managed a quick in her wedding dress before the damn party.” Arya laughed once she gave up. “I hate this fucking dress.”

“Why do I have the feeling that this whole dress was one of your _matushka’s_ plans to prevent the consummation of our matrimony? Really, if I don’t get to fuck you tonight I’ll start shooting people randomly.” Jon said grumpy before Arya could kiss him tenderly again.

For the first time he felt as if Arya really care about him. Her passion and enthusiasm were just like he remembered from their youth and for a second he believed time hasn’t passed at all.

“Let us survive this damn show and after that I’m yours.” She declared in a low tone. Her voice obscured by desire. “I’m happy that you hadn’t killed Gendry. I…I didn’t want to hate you or to spend the rest of my life guessing if this whole married is built over lies and blood.”

Jon held her face between his hands and caressed her cheeks gently.

“I’m afraid it was built over lies and blood because this is what we are. I’m glad that you don’t hate me, though.” He smiled at her fondly as the car stopped in front of the mansion where the wedding reception would be held. “Let us get inside, be done with this damn show and get back home so I can tear this bloody skirt apart and fuck you properly. Just in case things go wrong, I had two guns place under our table and you should carry your new toy along. There are enough men inside to invade a small country so we should be fine.”

“Just in case things go wrong…I love you, stupid.” Arya said it with a wide grin in her lips.

Satin opened the door to find them like that; kissing each other in a way that could be labeled as obscene. Later Jon would laugh at the whole situation, but he was too busy kissing his wife. Arya eventually let go of him so they could both try to look a bit more presentable once they meet the guests.

Jon offered her his hand and helped Arya out of the car. They took a deep breath at the double door was opened.

The ballroom was crowded. Everyone of consequence in the country was there; from tv celebrities to the top teen in the most wanted lists. Neither Jon nor Bran had measured efforts to bring all of their allies and enemies to that party to witness the dawn of a brand new dynasty.

They walked hand in hand to the center of the ballroom as the guests opened the way. At the main table the Starks stood with their proud faces staring at everyone around. Once they reached the center of the dance floor the staff started serving champagne to the guests to start the toasts’ round.

Bran grabbed the microphone, claiming the right over the first toast of the night as the head of House Stark. Arya looked at her brother with cold eyes while Jon squeezed her hand lightly in reassurance.

“First of all I would like to welcome all of you and thank you to share with my family such a wonderful moment.” Bran’s voice was pleasant and commanded attention like a true leader should. “I wish my father and brother were live to see this splendid party and also bless this union. Jon has always been like a brother to us. Father often would say how much of a Stark he looked like and took great pride in the sort of man our cousin was becoming. Jon is a true friend and an honorable man in a world that lacks honesty and morality. Of course we have always loved him dearly, but my dearest sister made sure to claim his affections in a special way.” Bran smiled at them fondly. “Arya and Jon have always been inseparable since she learned to walk. There was literally nothing Jon wouldn’t do if she asked. At first we thought it to be just empathy or ordinary favoritism. With time, as my sister grew into womanhood it became obvious that favoritism was turning into infatuation, then into a flirt, then passion. It took us sometime to realize that they were in love. They have always been in love with each other or at least in the verge of falling in love. Now this love comes to its climax.”He made a dramatic pause as he rose his glass. “Now I propose a toast in their honor. Jon, I’m proud of calling you my brother. Dear Arya, my darling sister, I hope you to be ridiculously happy in your new life. To the bride and groom!”

All the guests rose their glasses in a loud toast before drinking the champagne.

Jon asked for the microphone for himself as it was expected. For a second Arya wondered what would come of his first declaration as a married man. Probably something tacky, old fashioned and dramatic.

“I would like to thank my new brothers, dear sister Sansa, and _matushka_ for such a warm welcome to this lovely family. Before I make my toast, I would like to ask for a napkin and a bit of water.”

The other request was promptly answered by the staff as Arya observed Jon soaking the napkin in the water without understanding his plan. He pressed the napkin against her skin near her shoulder and cleavage where her tattoos had been covered.

Slowly he cleaned away all the makeup used to hide the stars that shown her high rank in the criminal world in a sign of defiance and a clear warning of his intentions. Once he uncovered both starts he put the water and napkin aside and once more turned to the audience.

“Now that’s better.” He smiled proudly. “Although I understand the aesthetics of it, I couldn’t bare the idea of my beloved being changed in any way. What Bran said is true. I’ve always loved you, Arya. First as my little cousin, then as a friend, until one day I looked at you and I saw the only woman that would ever accept and understand who I am. I couldn’t help to love every single bit of you ever since. That’s why it bothers me to see people trying to change what you are. A man doesn’t see the beauty of a thunderstorm and command someone to cover or hide it. A man can’t help feeling dazzled by the mighty force of nature and that’s exactly what you are. My best friend, my accomplice, my blizzard, my moon, my mate, my _voltchitsa_ , my _tzaritsa._ Thank you for having this humble peasant as your loving husband.” Jon kissed her hands before passing the microphone to Arya.

She accepted the task even if she didn’t have anything to say to those people. That was a show, though. The perfect moment to make a statement of her new status as Jon’s equal in the business. It was an opportunity that simply couldn’t be missed.

“I can’t help but to remember one of my _papa_ ’s lessons. _Papa_ was a wise man and I believe we should always learn from our elders. Once he found me playing with a Swiss army knife Jon had given to me as a gift. He was obviously distressed and asked me who had given me such a dangerous gift. I never told him. I lied to my father and I can tell he was upset, but he also understood. I guess _papa_ suspected that I was trying to protect you from punishment. He never asked again, but he complimented my loyalty. He said that the Starks just like the wolves find strength in the pack. In times of need, or as my father would say, in winter…The lone wolf die, but the pack survive. This is a good lesson to be learned. I’ve thought I was meant to be a lonely wolf, until I found you. My mate, my companion…I’m happy for being able to name you the alpha of my pack.”

Arya heard the thunderous applause of their allies as their enemies exchanged worried glances.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally they are wedded, but unfortunately not bedded XD  
> My original intention was to include a sex scene in the limo, but when I considered all the bridal production it sounded too complicated and anti climatic. I would be a hell of crack scene after a very dense and important conversation. I like this chapter because they finally seem to be speaking the same language and Arya is accepting her feelings for him without guilt.  
> Arya will confront Bran at some point and I can't imagine anything more dramatic and cruel than that. Even if a confront with the Lannisters come to fruition, Bran's actions were a treason she will have a hard time dealing with. Let's see what will happen next. The wedding continues during the next chapter and I hope to include some steamy sex scene in it. XD  
> By the way I want to thank "Okunikuokulo", "Amster-I", "Unmints" and Naysa for serving as bride's maids in this chapter by helping me to decide Arya's wedding dress. That was terribly funny to do.  
> For those who might be wondering how does the dress look like, here it is! http://en.gabbiano.ru/catalog/detail.php?id=12188   
> I wanted a dress that screamed "Sansa chose it!" and something that looked regal and also a light so Arya could move around. This was the chosen one because it reminds me of a ballerina, or The Swan Queen.  
> I hope you like it and reviews are made of sugar, spice and everything nice!


	7. Chapter 7

In a couple of hours half of the guests were  wasted while the other half tried to keep the dignity. Vodka, champagne and wine were served in abundance while only the security team remained sober.

Arya discreetly searched under the table for the guns Jon had placed there. Her fingers brushed the hilt and to feel it there gave her a sensation of relief. She could see Cersei and Jaime sitting across the ballroom, chatting and drinking like lovers. Tommen hadn't come to the wedding, nor had Margaery Tyrell, which was something expected. Cersei would never put her beloved son in such a risk and even if the Tyrells and the Starks had no quarrel Willas would rather keep his sister safe elsewhere.

Her mother hadn't be seen since the speech and Arya could hardly blame her for that. It was no secret that Cat Stark hated Jon since his childhood for no other reason but the threat he had always represented to her family. Rhaegar and Lyanna nearly destroyed the entire territory and Arya's father had barely survived the war.

Jon had been raised as one of Ned's children. A bastard boy raised among Cat's legitimate ones. For years he had been a ghost  h aunting her marriage and later became a true threat to Robb's command.

Now the dispute would be over and soon or later her mother would have to accept it. In a way Arya was relieved because it felt like the only way to stabilize a long lasting conflict in the territory.

She looked at Bran who was sitting next to Meera Reed. They were a beautiful couple and there was no doubt their wedding would be a good and peaceful one. She couldn't help feeling resentful about it even if Arya agreed that Bran deserved some happiness in his life. Her brother would marry someone of his choosing, not because of a nasty agreement to avoid a gang war. 

Even if Bran had the family's best interest in mind, he wouldn't escape unpunished for killing Gendry. Eventually she would come up with a way of making her brother pay for his treason, but Arya would wait for the right opportunity.

"I think...We should enjoy the party." Jon whispered close to her ear as if reading her dangerous thoughts. "Bran is a thought for another day."

"I had plenty of vodka. Thank you." Arya answered in an attempt of dismissing his implied invitation for a dance.

"C'mon  _voltchitsa_ ! It's our wedding!" He teased her and kissed her neck. "We should have at least one dance together!"

"What about the security?" She looked at with mockery in her eyes and smile. "It's dangerous, Jon."

"I know. Dangerous and incredibly predictable even for a Lannister." Jon said before kissing her lips. "I told you. I have enough guards here to invade a small country. We should be fine."

"You won't give up, will you?" Arya asked in an annoyed tone, making him laugh.

"Have I ever?" He replied with affection. "C o me! I want to dance with my  _malen'kaya zhena 1_ ."

Arya followed him to the dance floor and they had their first dance like any newly wed couple would. It was funny and peaceful as they swayed to the sound of the music. Jon would whisper all sorts of jokes and obscenities close to her ears, making her laugh and relax. She held him tightly and kissed him several times until the truth finally settled within her.

She loved him and that marriage had nothing to do with revenge or business.

Once the dance was over, Arya excused herself claiming that her feet were hurting. Jon didn't question her this time. She walked back to the table leaving him behind to drink and dance with his men.

Arya thought she would have at least a few minutes of quietness, but as soon as she sat she saw the peculiar figure of Tyrion Lannister walking her way with a half smile on his face.

"Who would ever guess that white is your color?!" He said in attempt of gallantry. "You look lovely, Mrs. Targaryen."

"I may have changed my surname, but I'm still as Stark in blood and heart, Mr. Lannister." She said as her hand carefully searched for the gun under the table.

"Please...Call me Tyrion." He insisted. "I'm not a f oo l, my dear. I'm quite aware of the meaning behind this tremendous wedding. Your husband doesn't play coy when it comes to his ambitions, neither do you when it comes to your anger. This is a match made in hell."

"To what do I own your courtesies?" She asked once she felt the gun in her hand.

"As I've said before...I'm not stupid. I know that you hold my family responsible to what happened to you father and brother. I also know what my father did to the Targaryens and we all know that forgiveness doesn't work well with our kind of business." Tyrion said calmly. "I have a great deal of admiration for you and your family. As for Jon...I like to think of him as a friend."

"Are you here to offer your friendship, Mr. Tyrion?" She asked cautiously. "How so?"

"Aye...I am your friend and I even have a gift for you, my dearest Mrs. Targaryen." He said before taking her hand in his to kiss it. At first Arya was startled with his gesture but once she felt something small and hard against her palm she understood....A pen drive. "You should look at this very carefully. My sister does like dramatic actions, so I suggest you to keep smiling and enjoying the party. As long as she thinks of you as a silly ignorant child, she won't think of you as a threat."

"I'll remember that." Arya smiled at him and bowed her head lightly. "I would like to know the price of your help, Tyrion."

"My sister's death will be more than enough, my dear. Just keep the boy out of it. Tommen is innocent in this and you do have a reputation." He said.

"You mean leaving the path empty for you to take Cersei's place."

"This is what I would call a side effect, my dear. Indeed I would be the likely successor or at least Tommen's tutor until he comes of age." Tyrion gave her a hideous smile in answer.

Arya looked over him just to see Jon approaching them fast. She could sense his anger from a distance even if Tyrion Lannister alone presented little to no threat to her security. Of course the man had a reputation of his own, but Arya had no quarrel with him.

Jon seemed distressed by some reason even when Tyrion claimed to be his friend as well. It could be a lie, but Jon had a thing for helping the misfits and the outcasts. Tyrion Lannister could be easily seen as such.

"Trying to take my wife away already, Imp?" Jon asked sharply. "Here I thought the girls I've send you to be enough to settle your appetite."

Both of them laughed at Jon's crude joke, while Arya observed their interaction cautiously.

"I would appreciate if you sent me a bottle of vodka next time. I'm no longer a single man, you see. I would rather not anger my wife." Tyrion said politely.

"Where is the lady? I would like to meet her." Jon declared.

"After what happened to my first wife I'm not getting Shae anywhere near my family. I have to thank you for what you did for us, Jon." Tyrion said. "I just gave Mrs. Targaryen my wedding gift and I can only hope you'll enjoy it as well."

"We will talk business in another time." Jon pointed.

"By the way...You do have a superb taste in woman. If I weren't a married man I would indeed consider taking your bride for myself." Jon felt strangely uneasy for some reason, but smiled at Tyrion politely. "Mr. and Mrs. Targaryen, I wish you both a long and healthy life."

With that he walked away.

Jon took the place by her side and drank a full shot of vodka before looking at her.

"What did he gave to you?" He asked close to her ear as if he was sharing a joke with her. Arya laughed a bit, entering the game.

"This." She opened her hand to let him see the pen drive in her palm. "He mentioned something about Cersei liking dramatic actions. Do you have any idea of what it is?"

"No, but it must be good." Jon said before kissing her lips. "Tyrion is probably the best ally we could have at this point."

"Do you trust him?" Arya asked before repaying his kiss.

"As much as I can trust anyone in this business." He answered. "I trust his rage, though. And I trust his ambition. I'm grating his wife protection from Cersei and in exchange he gives me vital information on Lannister business."

"Sounds good. I had come across some nasty rumors a few months ago. Something to do with Cersei pilling up enough explosives to blow the docks." Arya whispered to him while caressing his face. "Do you think it has something to do with it?"

"You do like your boats and half of my trade gets inside the country in ships. It's highly possible. If that's the case, we only need to set the trap to get them."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me." Arya bit his bottom lip sensuously in answer, making Jon pull her by the nape and give her a fervent kiss.

"I can't wait to tear you dress with my bare hands."  He growled against her lips.

“I guess it’s about damn time for us to get out of this fucking place.” Arya answered breathlessly. “Send my family home and then we can go.”

He grinned at her like a fool before calling Satin and giving him orders. It would take a while for the Starks to be removed back to Winterfell. Arya excused herself for a second to go to the restroom before they could go home.

Once she entered the restroom Arya was surprise by Bran’s presence. Her brother’s chair placed between her and the closed door. Her surely had two guards waiting outside for them, but Arya didn’t know for sure why would her brother come to her when he had already betrayed her love in a treacherous way.

“I didn’t have the chance to say how beautiful you are.” He said in his usually kind and caring way. “Father would be so proud of you.”

“I doubt it.” Arya answered sharply. “He would be mad at Jon and threatening to kill him.”

“Or he would have come up with the idea himself. This marriage is a clever move.” Bran said in an effort of making her understand the greatness of that alliance, as if she was just a willful child to be reasoned with. “Jon is probably the only one in this town able to keep up with your vicious nature.”

“And also the only one you could manipulate with your kind offer.” Arya’s voice was cold. “Why? Why did you do that? Gendry never did a thing to cross you. You acted behind my back and killed one of my man for no other reason than to fall on Jon’s good graces. I have no idea why would you come after me with Gendry’s blood on your hands and still acting as if you were nothing but a fragile cripple man.”

Bran moved his chair forward. His face seemed as serene and pleasant as ever.

“I refused to sit at home looking at you putting everything we’ve fought for in danger because of that man.” Bran answered as if Gendry’s life meant nothing to him. “Jon’s offer wouldn't stand on the table forever and you needed to be reminded where our loyalty should always rest on. We are a family. We are a pack.”

“As if I have done nothing to secure our position and continue our father’s work!” Arya snapped back out of sheer anger. “I am the one our enemies fear! I am the only one able to keep the business going!”

“You were nothing but a nuisance to Cersei!” Bran replied out of indignation. “All your potential wasted on your displays of reckless rage! You weren’t a leader to our family. You were just daddy’s little girl playing at war, acting like a low soldier and putting us in risk because of you affair with Mr. Waters!”

“And yet it was I who brought justice to the Freys. You had no right to betray me in the way you did! I’ve done everything for this family while you stayed at home with your books and your bitterness!” Arya’s rage had finally came to surface.

“Bitterness?” Bran laughed as if she had told him a joke. “You would be bitter too if you were in my position. I can’t hold a gun and kill Cersei. I can’t stand in front of our men and give orders. My life was ruined for good because of them! You promised me you would avenge everything they have done to our family, but you would never managed it without alliances. I just made sure you would go back to Jon’s bed and get his resources on our side. Now you are a name everyone in that room fear. You are not Cat of the Canals, you are not the Ghost of Harenhall...You are Arya Stark! You are the leader of this family and I did what was needed to make sure you wouldn’t forget it. Jon is family. Jon have always been a fool for you and the only one who could drag you back to the game.”

“The only thing standing between my bullets and you is our mother’s love for you.” Arya answered bitterly. “I’ll be everything you want me to be and more. I’ll go back to Jon’s bed and let him fuck me all night long for the sake of your sweet revenge, brother dear. Once I’m done...You’ll be as good as dead to me.”

There was silence between them for a second. Bran looked at her with a broken smile on his face. Was it the price she would pay for her ambitions? Would she ever be able to look at his face and forgive what Bran did?

“Believe it or not...I did it out of love for you, sister.” Bran said sadly. “You have never loved anyone as you love Jon, but your stubbornness and pride would never allow you to go back to him. I did what I had to. You will be happy in due time. You will take your rightful place and do great things and that bastard will be nothing but a vague memory.”

T he security team opened the restroom’s door before Arya could reply to that. Jon came in like a storm as if he feared what she might do to Bran, or even what Bran might do to her.

“The car is ready.” Jon declared soberly. “I’ve sent Catelyn and Rickon home already. Willas took Sansa to the heliport and I think they will be arriving at Highgarden in a couple of hours.”

“Thank you, Jon.” Bran answered calmly. “I guess it’s my turn to get back home. I wish both of you all the happiness in the world and...A memorable wedding night.” He turned the wheelchair around and left the restroom without further provocations.

Jon didn’t ask about the conversation, nor did she said a thing about it. They got back into the car and the path back to Jon’s house was a quiet one.

Arya looked at the Red Keep and realized it was no longer Jon’s place. It was her home now and there was no going back.

Jon got out of the car first and helped her out of it. He took her in his arms and carried her in bridal style through the doors of her new home.  He had the entire house prepared for them. Candles had been lit and rose petals spread all over the floor forming a path to their room.

He was unusually quiet and tense. In a way Arya almost felt like a virgin again as she felt the weight of her decisions on her shoulders.

Jon opened the door by pulling it with his feet and once they were inside the room he kicked the door closed before putting her on the floor. Arya took the time to look around and observe how he had been careful about all the preparations.

There was food and vodka in case they needed. There was also a number of sex toys in case they were feeling creative as they used to be.

Arya took up the bottle of vodka and had a sip straight from it while Jon removed his shirt. Her eyes roamed all over his tattooed chest with hunger and apprehension.  Jon took the bottle from her hand and drank the vodka as if it was nothing but water before putting it aside.

“Happy?” She asked cautiously as he approached her with calculated movements.

“Indeed I am.” He whispered before kissing her exposed shoulders and neck. “But there’s still much I want to do. I want it to be perfect.”

Jon removed her tiara and undid the complicated bun she wore. Her hair felt over her shoulders in a cascade. His hands carefully removed her wedding dress, leaving her body fully exposed.

“Do you remember our games?” He asked sensuously. His beard scratching the skin of her neck as he kissed it.

“Yes, I do.” She said lazily as Jon removed her underwear as if she was an offering being prepared to be sacrificed.

He took a scarf from the table in which all the toys had been place and used it to cover her eyes. Arya was suddenly in the dark and wondering what would he do next. Jon tied up her hands with silky ropes before taking her in his arms again.

He carried her and laid her on his bed. He tied her hands above her head so she wouldn’t be able to touch him for a good while. She used to like it when he was feeling creative. There was a naughtiness to it that made everything terribly erotic. Since she couldn’t see what he was doing, Arya could only guess how he would surprise her.

“Open your mouth, .” He said and Arya obeyed.

He put his finger inside her mouth and Arya was taken my surprise by the salty taste and the funny sensation of caviar popping inside her mouth. She licked the treat off his fingers before sucking it as she would have done to his cock.

“Good girl.” He said. “You know...I’m still hungry.” He took his finger out of her mouth and then started to drop something she presumed to be caviar all over her body. So...he was feeling like playing with his food.

Jon spread her legs wide open to accommodate him. Then he started licking the caviar away from her; first her shoulders, than her nipples. He sucked them like a newborns would have done, making her moan and twist under the weight of his body. Her first instinct was to try to release her hands so she could touch him. He laughed at her attempts before moving to the other nipple, taking his time to torture her.

Jon was playing with her senses, making her feel vulnerable in that little fantasy. He was making the most of his dream of marrying her and Arya being hopeless and vulnerable under his body was his way of making her feel like a virgin again. Everything was about living the fantasy of a perfect white wedding, being the act of deflowering the maiden the peak of it. Jon was that insecure and  twisted, but it didn’t meant Arya wasn’t enjoying every moment of it.

He licked the caviar from her belly, slowly getting down until he reached her clit to give it a hard suck that made her gasp for air. His tongue never failed to pleasure her and this time things weren’t different. Every lick, every suck was meant to make her moan and call his name out of sheer pleasure until there was a flood between her legs.

Her legs tightened around his head as she reached her first orgasm.  Jon continued his ministration just to prolong her climax for as long as possible.

Jon took away the scarf from her eyes so she could look at him. He caressed her face with tenderness before kissing her fervently. Arya answered to his kiss with the same enthusiasm. It actually felt like the first time as Jon switched from the dominant alpha male to the tender and passionate lover just to prove her that he was better, wiser than any lover she might have had in her life.

He knew his way around her body. He knew the way she liked to be touched and kissed. The right amount of violence, the right measure of tenderness...After all, he had been the one to teach her all the secrets of  the bedchamber.

Jon held her face by the chin just to make sure she would be looking at him once he claimed his prize. His cock slid into her wet cunt, filling her completely and making her hold her breath for a second.

For a second she wondered if Bran had the slightest idea of what it meant for her to be back in Jon’s bed. How utterly frail she felt as he move his hips. It was a weakness. Whenever he was inside her she no longer cared about her ambitions, or her vengeance. Only Jon mattered.

Gendry had been good in bed. More than good if she were to be honest. The problem was that Jon still had her desires and heart in a tight grasp. In the end the reason why Arya had fought against his plans for so long was the fact that she didn’t want to be tamed and that was exactly what Jon was doing to her.

She reached orgasm again and again without Jon finished inside her. Only then he untied her hands and allowed his body to rest on top of her. Arya caressed his hair gently while he recovered his energies.

“Tired already?” Arya asked lazily after a while.

“Not even close, _voltchits_ _a.”_ He answered breathlessly. “I should have sent Bran way. I’m sorry about that.”

“No, you are not.” Arya answered. “You got exactly what you wanted from this bargain and as far as I can see you don’t regret it a single bit.”

“You are right.” He said before kissing her. “I don’t. I would do everything again if I had to. I would never give you up. Now I can say that I have everything that I wanted. You and me...Together as it should be.”

“What now?” Arya asked while still feeling her body boneless. “The world just got terribly boring without our little game of cat and mouse, don’t you think?”

“Say it for yourself, _vozlyublennaya.”_ Jon grinned at her mischievously. “It gives me tremendous pleasure just to think about your _matushka_ every time I get the chance to make you moan. Besides...The real fun is about to start. I promised you a war after all.”

“And a war I shall have.” She grabbed him by his hair and claimed his mouth in a hungry kiss.

 

  


1� little wife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Soo...I liked this prompt so much that it will have at least a second chapter. Since every prompt I received lately was gravitating around the idea of Dark Jon (even with non-con requires), this seamed a good way to start. I confess my immediate inspiration was Eastern Promise (movie about Russian mafia), just because the idea of a tattooed Jon speaking Russian was too much for me to resist. The families in this are closer to the Italian Mafia dynamics than the Russian Mafia, so don't expect an accurate depiction of any factions. I'm taking several liberties with it and it's not my intention to offend anyone.  
> I'm not sure about the path I'll take with it. Particularly it makes me uncomfortable to write non-con, but if you guys want it I'll make it happen. I want your opinions on it. Don't be shy.  
> I hope you like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


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